Advent, Week 1: How Many More Minutes?

First Sunday in Advent:
November 27, 2011
Mark 13:24-37
Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I can’t wait!
How many more minutes?
I’m bored!
When are we going to get there?

Such were the comments from the backseat of the car when I was a little girl as we drove “over the river and through the woods” to my grandparents’ home in northwest Iowa. It wasn’t a very long drive—two or three hours—but as a child, it seemed like an eternity. It didn’t help that my little brother and the cocker spaniel were also in the backseat, surrounded often by piles of presents and coolers of food. There were always arguments about whose side the dog would sit on, who had more legroom, who got to choose the radio station, and my parents’ favorite: “Mooooom....tell him to stop looking at me!”

Waiting is hard.

Anticipating the arrival at Grandma’s house was agonizing. It seemed we would never get there.

And yet, we always knew we would get there eventually—and we knew the signs that we were getting close.

On the way to my grandma’s house, there were four towns in a row whose names started with the letter “D”, and we became ever more excited as we counted them down: Dow City, Dunlap, Denison, Deloit. And then, after we passed that fourth “D”, we were in the homestretch. Only a little bit of farmland lay between us and our destination! Soon we came to the last three hills: one…two…three…and when we reached the top of the third hill, we could see it lying there below us: Kiron, Iowa, population 300. There was my grandpa’s store, Nelson Hardware! And in the center of town, across from Bethel Lutheran Church, was my grandma’s house. Paradise!
Waiting…is hard.

Today, as we enter the season of Advent, we begin awaiting with joyful anticipation the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, son of God, the Messiah, the one the world had been longing to see. All around us are signs that we’re getting closer: lights on our neighbor’s houses, holiday music on the radio, and of course the Advent wreath here at church with the first candle now lit. At home, you may have an Advent calendar to help you wait. (My favorites are the ones with little chocolates behind each window!) Yes, waiting is hard…but the waiting we do in Advent is made easier and more joyful by these familiar ways of marking time.

And perhaps the more important point is this: The waiting of Advent is joyful because we know, without a doubt, we will get to our destination. We know the baby Jesus will be born, the angels will sing, the shepherds will see the star, and the kings will arrive—and we know exactly when! Christmas is coming exactly four Sundays from now. These four Sundays of Advent remind me of those four towns starting with the letter “D” on the way to my grandmother’s house. Those towns appeared on the map every single time we drove to Grandma’s, and in the same way these four Sundays of Advent are trustworthy landmarks, guiding us on the journey toward Christmas. We wait with joy and confidence for the Christ child to be born again in our hearts! Amen!

But our Gospel text for today speaks of a different kind of waiting. In Mark chapter 13, we experience a vision not of Jesus’ birth, but of his second coming. Jesus describes how everything will be different on that day: the sun and moon will be dark, the stars will be falling from the sky, and the very powers in the heavens will be shaken. And then we will see him: Jesus, the Son of Man, coming in clouds with great power and glory, and his angels gathering the elect from the far reaches of both heaven and earth.

It will be a day of judgment, a day when all things will be set right, a day when everything will finally make sense. It’s a day worth waiting for.

And naturally, the next question is: “When? When will this happen?” The disciples had asked this exact question at the beginning of the chapter. Mark chapter 13 begins like this: “When Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’”
And Jesus answers by way of painting pictures of wars and rumors of wars; of nations rising against nation and kingdom against kingdom; of famine and persecution, of families torn apart and false messiahs. These are the signs that he is about to come. And then we hear the words we least want to hear: “But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”
In other words: No one—apart from God—knows when Jesus will come again.

Christmas comes, unfailingly, at the same time every year...but we don't know when Jesus will come again. There’s a reason we hear this particular Gospel text on the first Sunday of Advent—it reminds us that we are also waiting for the second coming of Christ. The disciples were certain it would happen in their lifetime. Countless Christians have watched for signs. TV evangelists comb the newspaper headlines and decode the Bible for a sense of when, exactly, Jesus will come again. But for more than two thousand years, we have been living in Advent. We wait, and we wait, and we wait.

And waiting….is hard.

Indeed, this is a different kind of waiting. There is no wreath with candles to light for the second coming. There is no calendar with little chocolates behind each window (though that would be an impressive amount of chocolate, now wouldn’t it?) Waiting for the second coming…which doesn’t seem to be coming…is a test of faith and endurance and patience.

Jesus doesn’t tell us how to make the wait any easier. But he does tell the disciples to “Keep awake”.

“Beware, keep alert” he said, “for you do not know when the time will come.”

I have a friend who knows what it means to wait—and also what it means to stay awake and alert. She and her husband were married sixteen years ago, the same year I married my husband. But in these sixteen years, while we were having babies and raising our family, Dawn and her husband were waiting. The pregnancies never happened.

And so they chose to adopt, and they threw themselves joyfully and whole-heartedly into the adoption process. Dawn joined an online adoption support community, ministering to others who were waiting. One by one, these families brought their babies home. And still, Dawn and her husband waited.

They waited, and not without a fair amount of discouragement. One country ended their adoption program. A new job forced them to stop the process for awhile. But still, Dawn and her husband stayed awake. They were ready at any moment for their baby to arrive—and kept a room in their home ready for that very purpose. In spite of many discouragements, they waited with hope for the day when that nursery would be filled with life.

And that day came, one month ago. The day before Halloween, they received a phone call that a baby was being born that night, and they had been chosen to be the parents. Sixteen years of waiting, sixteen years of being awake and ready, and it all came down to that one night, when a little baby was born.

His name is Isaac, and this Christmas he will be filling that nursery with sounds of joy for Dawn and her husband.

Waiting...is hard. Keeping alert—and hopeful—in spite of many years of darkness is even harder.

But we have heard the Good News: that even though heaven and earth pass away, the words of Jesus will not pass away. The word of God stands forever! Amen!

The words of Jesus will not pass away, thanks be to God! And so we can stand firm on his word, trusting in the one who said, “Behold, I am coming soon!’ and especially “Lo, I will be with you always, to the end of the age.”

And so we Christians wait in joyful anticipation for Jesus to come again. And while we wait, we keep awake and alert! Like house-sitters, hired to care for the house while the master is away, we go about God’s business in the world until Jesus comes again. We care for God’s children at Head start and the Bethany preschool. We feed God’s family at PADS and at the food pantry. We care for God’s house—not just this house of worship, but all of creation!

Chiefly, we stay awake, waiting in anticipation of the day we know is coming, the day when the master will return and make things right. Like children with noses pressed against icy windows, waiting for the grandparents to arrive, we wait for headlights to round the corner, filling the dark night with light. Like hopeful parents-to-be, we keep a room ready for the day when the long-awaited child will arrive.

This Advent season, may you wait in hope and with joyful anticipation, not only for Christmas, but for Jesus, the light of the world, to come again into our dark world. Amen.

Christ the King Sunday: November 20, 2011

Christ the King Sunday: November 20, 2011
Matthew 25:31-46
Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

My dear people, today is a very important day. As of today, it’s only five days until Thanksgiving, six days until Black Friday, seven days until Advent, and only 35 days until Christmas! In fact, considering the time crunch you are all under, I am grateful to see so many of you in the pews today.

I’m especially grateful to see you because today is also an important day in the church. Today is Christ the King Sunday, otherwise known as the last Sunday of the church year. Next week begins a new church year and the Advent season, when we will begin awaiting with joyful anticipation the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Admittedly, Christ the King isn’t one of our most familiar Christian observances. As far as I can tell, Hallmark hasn’t discovered it yet! And there are those who wonder if Christ the King Sunday has outlived its usefulness, given the fact that most of us have never lived under a king’s rule. Celebrating Jesus as a monarch on a throne seems out of step with our more sophisticated, democratic way of life.

But then again, there is a certain wisdom in celebrating the kingship of Christ at this particular time of year.

Why? Because especially at this time of year, as we enter the holiday season, there are many powers and principalities at work which threaten to become kings in our lives.

First and foremost, King Christmas has reclaimed its throne this week. Everywhere we look, we see signs of King Christmas and its kingdom. King Christmas and Christ the King are not one and the same! Christ the King is our good shepherd and the prince of peace. King Christmas demands that we find good deals on gifts, plan a delicious meal, compete in the neighborhood decoration contest, travel in sketchy weather to see friends and family, and smile while we are doing it! As if our lives were not stressful enough, now the achievement of a perfectly cooked, beautifully wrapped, well-designed, warm and fuzzy Christmas has so much authority over us that we’re already stressed about the holidays on November 20th—and it’s not even Advent, my friends! And we still have 5 days until Thanksgiving…which is good, since I haven’t been to the grocery store yet.

On this Christ the King Sunday, when we honor the kingship of Christ in our lives, it is good and right to examine our lives and take inventory of the other so-called authorities demanding our attention and obedience.

King Christmas is just one of many. A list of other false monarchs could include King Economy, Queen Politics, Prince Achievement and Princess Tradition, also known as “Princess We’ve Never Done it That Way Before.”

And then, there’s King Football.

The authority of football has been all over the news for two weeks—and unfortunately the talk hasn’t been about the upcoming holiday football games. “King Football” is at the heart of the recent Penn State sexual abuse scandal. This scandal has shocked us, and makes us ask how such a terrible thing could happen in one of the most revered football programs in the country. Discussing this very question, National Public Radio featured an interview last week with Dave Ridpath, a professor of sports administration at Ohio University, who says the current scandal at Penn State is the most extreme example of a college sports system that protects teams at all costs.

Ridpath told the NPR interviewer: “…to be clear, this is possibly the worst scandal that I've heard of in college athletics and it takes a lot to shock me when I talk about college sports. But what I will say is it shows the lengths that very smart, very distinguished people, the lengths that they will go to to protect King Football, to protect the brand, to protect the image, to protect highly-paid coaches is immense.

And when you think that smart administrators - and these are smart people at Penn State - would act in this way when confronted with the safety of children…is almost mind-boggling.”

To be sure, it was just one disturbed individual who committed these crimes against children, but it was “King Football” who kept good people—smart administrators and well-loved coaches—from speaking out when young boys were being abused. Indeed, it seems that like dutiful subjects of the king, a number of good people went to great lengths to protect the football program, the university’s reputation, and their own positions within the kingdom. This is the power of a king over us: a king requires that above all else, we protect him and his interests.

And this is where our Gospel text for today, from the 25th chapter of Matthew, intersects with this news story. For it is in this Gospel passage that we meet a different kind of king: a king who is indeed powerful, and who expects our obedience—but whose interests and priorities surprise us.

Matthew 25 is sometimes called “The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats”, and at first, it seems an odd choice for Christ the King Sunday. The passage starts out all right in verse 31with familiar “kingly” language: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.” This is what we expect when we imagine a king: a throne, and some glory, and maybe even a choir of angels for good measure!

But then this passage from Matthew seems to go off the rails a bit, with all its talk of sheep and goats and the “least of these.”

Christ the King, sitting on his throne of glory, goes about separating his flock into sheep and goats. The sheep, at his right hand, he commends for having provided him with food and drink, welcoming him, giving him clothing, visiting him in prison and healing him when he was sick. And the sheep said, “Who, us? What have we done for you lately?”

Next, the king reprimands the goats at his left hand, pointing out that they had NOT given him food or drink, not welcomed him, not visited him in prison, not clothed him, and not healed him when he was sick. And the goats said, “Who, us? What have we NOT done for you lately?”
And the king’s answer is the same to both the sheep and the goats: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”…or, to the goats, “Truly I tell you, just as you did NOT do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

And there it is. This one phrase from Matthew 25 gives us a true image of the kingship of Christ. We expect a king to be powerful. We might even expect him to act as judge. But we don’t expect a king to speak up for the “least of these”. We certainly don’t expect the king on the throne to identify himself with the little ones—to be present among us as the hungry, the poor, the sick, the weak, and the imprisoned. We, like the both the sheep and the goats, do not look for him there.

And yet this is exactly the kind of king we have in Christ Jesus: one who empties himself, who takes the form of a slave, who eats with sinners, who touches lepers, who welcomes tax collectors, and speaks truth to power. We serve a king who was born in a stable and who leads not from a throne, but from the streets, from the cross, and from the empty tomb!

Christ is our King—and as king of our lives, he rightfully demands that we protect his interests. But what we learn in Matthew 25 is that Jesus’ interests are the interests of the poor. We learn that Jesus’ priorities are the priorities of the hungry. Jesus’ realm is the realm of the naked and the sick, the imprisoned and the outcast. Jesus is for the least of these, wherever we may find them. Therefore if we want to serve Christ, we will serve the least of these among us.

On this Christ the King Sunday, this Gospel passage invites us to examine our lives and consider: who is king of our lives? If we were witness to the kind of abuse that took place at Penn State, whose kingdom would we protect? Whose interests would be our priority? Would we speak up for the least among us, the powerless boys in the locker room shower? Or would we go to great lengths to protect King Football?

Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.” Let us go forth into this holiday season, into our workplaces and schools, our shopping malls and our homes, and proclaim the kingship of Christ. Let it be known to all that the king we serve is the king of love and the prince of peace, He is lord of lords, king of kings, and son of the most high! On the last day, he will be sitting on his throne of glory, with all the angels around him and all the nations gathered before him. But in the meantime, if you want to meet him, he is at PADS, at the WIC office, on the streets, in line at the immigration office, in prison, and by the side of every single abused child.

What a mighty…and lowly…God we serve.

All Saints Day: November 6. 2011

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Matthew 5:1-12 (The Beatitudes)

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

My husband returned home from Egypt a few days ago, bearing gifts to make up for the fact that he missed my birthday last weekend! Among these well-chosen (and much-appreciated) gifts was a piece of papyrus, rolled up in a tube and carried carefully through airport customs, on which was painted an image of St. George, the dragon-slayer.

St. George, as Robert knows very well, is one of my favorite saints. It’s hard to explain what this Lutheran girl finds so appealing about this ancient Arab saint. History—what little history we have about him—records George as probably living in the 3rd century. He was born in Syria and joined Emperor Diocletian’s army. He was a good soldier, but one day Diocletian ordered that all Christian soldiers should be arrested, and all others be required to offer sacrifices to the Roman gods. George, who was raised a Christian, refused. In front of the emperor, the court and his fellow soldiers, he loudly proclaimed his faith in Jesus Christ. (I like to think of this as George’s “Luther” moment! “Here I stand…I can do no other!”)

Not wanting to lose a good soldier, Diocletian tried to convert George, offering him money, land and slaves if only he would renounce his faith in Jesus Christ. Nothing worked, so the emperor had no choice but to execute him—which he did, after torturing him in the presence of the empress and Athanasius, both of whom then converted to Christianity.

The historic George, saint and martyr, might be impressive enough, but then…there is the legendary George! You see, images like the one Robert brought for my birthday don’t show him taking a stand before the emperor, as courageous as it was. Instead, they show St. George on a horse, valiantly slaying a fire-breathing dragon, often with a princess in the background. The legend makes for better art than history, don’t you think? Depending on who tells the story, the dragon may represent a pagan cult, an invading army, or the struggle with the evil within ourselves. In Sweden, the princess rescued by George represents the entire kingdom of Sweden. And in Muslim tradition, George is called Al Khader, and is said to have been a close associate of the original twelve disciples.

George is the patron saint of Great Britain and Palestine, of butchers and boy scouts, and his likeness can be found above the doorway of nearly every Christian home in the Holy Land. Now, thanks to my dear husband, you can also find his image hanging near the front door of this Lutheran pastor’s house in Crystal Lake, Illinois.

St. George—Christian, martyr, and dragon-slayer, both historic figure and legendary character—is one of the many saints we honor this All Saints Day. He, along with Peter, James and John, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of our Lord, are with us today at the table, at the font, and in the light of Christ we share.

But not every saint has a halo, and certainly not many are dragon-slayers! In fact, most of the saints we honor this day are regular people, extraordinary only because of their faith in God and their baptism into the one church of Jesus Christ. The names of more than 700 of these saints are written on the quilt hanging behind the pulpit today, and the names of a few were prayed aloud as we began worship today. Countless others are remembered in our hearts—not for their legendary acts of bravery, but for their everyday lives of faith.

One of those everyday saints on my mind and in my heart today is a woman named Iva. Iva was the oldest member of my former congregation, and she died just a few days ago. Iva didn’t have a halo—or if she did, it could have used some polishing! One day, while she was in hospice care, I arrived at her home to bring her communion. As I entered the room, I called out “Iva, how are you doing today?” and she called out in response, “Pastor, I’m just bitchin’!”

On another occasion, her daughter phoned me to say the end was near, and I should hurry over quickly to see her. I threw on my collar, grabbed a Bible and raced over to her house. I found the family gathered around her bed. As I led them all in prayer, Iva was silent. But when I said, “Amen”, she opened her eyes, looked straight at me and said, “Oops, Pastor, I guess it was a false alarm.” That was more than six months ago!

Just before I finished my call at the church where Iva had been a lifelong member, I attended her 98th birthday party. Her quilting friends arranged a party around her hospice bed, complete with cake and ice cream and chicken salad. It was a lovely day—but Iva didn’t miss the opportunity to comment that “I guess you just can’t find good coffee around here anymore.”
Iva was colorful and spunky. She outlived two husbands, a son, a grandson, and six siblings. When she started attending Sunday School, she rode there on horseback. In her last years, she received the church newsletter by email. Iva wasn’t a dragon-slayer, but she taught me about the importance of speaking your mind, embracing change with grace and courage, and living each day with good humor. On this All Saints Day, I give thanks to God for Iva—teacher, farmer, quilter, and saint.

In his book “Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals”, pastor and author Shane Claiborne writes, “Since its earliest centuries, the church has set aside a day to remember the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us in the faith, stretching across the centuries and around the globe. However hard it might seem to follow the way of Jesus in our own time and place, this is a day to remember that we may be crazy, but we’re not alone.” (p. 504)

We are not alone, sisters and brothers! The candles around the altar today remind us that our beloved saints of all times and places are at the table with us, too—St. George and Iva among them. And when we pour the water into the font today to baptize Kayla and Lucas, we are assured that through water and the Word they are joined with us in the communion of saints—part of the one faith, the one church, and the one body, through the death and resurrection of the one Lord, Jesus Christ. We are not alone! Amen!

And we need to know we aren’t alone, fellow saints, because following Jesus can be difficult. Some days, we need to borrow the courage, the wisdom, and the experience of the saints who have gone before us. Some days, being a Christian can seem like a crazy thing to do, and we need to know we aren’t the first to try it!

When Jesus sat down on the mountain, he taught his disciples just how hard the path would be, but he also told them how blessed they would be along the way. In the few short verses we know as “the Beatitudes,” he taught his disciples to have hope in times of trial, to see adversity as opportunity, and to resist evil at all cost. Blessed are you, says Jesus—no matter what!
Blessed are you, even when your spirit is lacking, when your grief is overwhelming, or when you feel insignificant in this world. In Christ, you will be healed!

Blessed are you, when your sense of justice is frustrated at every turn and when your soul cries out for what is right. In Christ, the valleys will be lifted up and every mountain and hill will be made low!

Blessed are you when you find opportunities to be merciful, to purify your heart, and to make peace. Christ is with you!

And blessed are you, when you, like St. George, are persecuted for your faith, are challenged in your beliefs, and are attacked for where you stand. With Luther and with George, know that your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the saints who were before you. On this All Saints Day, know that you are not alone!

Let us pray…
Holy God, join our prayers and praise with your prophets and martyrs of every age, that, rejoicing in the hope of the resurrection, we might live in the freedom and hope of Your Son. Through Him, with Him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, almighty Father, now and forever. Amen.

Reformation Day with Confirmation: October 30, 2011

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

John 8:31-36

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Among your options for movie-watching this Halloween weekend is a film called “Anonymous”. Set in Elizabethan England, “Anonymous” spins out the story of Edward de Vere, the Earl of Oxford, who is the true author of the plays that have been falsely attributed to the no-good, amateur, imposter William Shakespeare. “To be or not to be, that is the question”, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,” and “This above all: to thine ownself be true.”—none of this was written by the man famously known as “The Bard.” Shakespeare, it turns out, was a fraud!

Now if this information about Shakespeare is news to you, then you also may be interested to know that it was the CIA who really assassinated JFK. And it just so happens that reptilian aliens were behind the plot to destroy the World Trade Center. Oh, and don’t forget the most important fact of all: Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene had a family together, and their descendants are alive today and living in France.

These and other so-called “truths” can all be found in books or on the silver screen. In fact, if you think up the craziest idea possible—reptilian aliens master-minding 9/11, for example—you can probably find an online community dedicated to that very same belief. Conspiracy theories are nothing new, but the free flow of ideas in the internet age has made “the truth” extremely hard to pin down. What makes a theory “true”? Academic research? A million followers on Facebook? Ten books on Amazon? Or seeing it played out on the big screen by our favorite movie stars?
Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but these days it seems the truth is in the hands of the movie producers and the web-bloggers.

The Gospel lesson for today, Reformation Sunday, is also about the truth. In John chapter 8, Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him: “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” The truth, he assures them, lies not with the Romans or the religious authorities or even with established tradition. Truth, says Jesus, is in his Word.

I wonder: if we heard Jesus saying these things today, would we call him a conspiracy theorist? Would we, like that small group of his followers, wonder if Jesus really had the truth on his side? After all, a sandal-wearing, long-haired radical, challenging long-held beliefs and claiming to have exclusive rights to “the truth” could be the guy appearing on the next episode of The History Channel’s hit conspiracy show “Ancient Aliens.”

Jesus could be just another guy with a crazy idea…or he could be Jesus Christ, the son of God. He could be Jesus, our brother, who walks with us. He could be the one we’ve been waiting for, the Savior of the world, the king of love, the lamb of God and the prince of peace! Jesus could be who he says he is: the way, the truth, and the life.

Today, we have 22 young disciples being confirmed at Bethany, thanks be to God! Twenty-two young people, who in baptism were already sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever, will come forward to have their faith affirmed through the laying on of hands and prayer. We rejoice that these young disciples have said “We know the truth, and the truth has set us free.” Amen!

This is a joyful day, but contrary to certain conspiracy theories, Confirmation is not graduation from church. And the Confirmation program is not a two-year process of downloading secret information into teenage brains! Faith isn’t about knowing facts.

But faith is about knowing the truth and being set free because of it. In preparation for this day, each of our young confirmands wrote a faith statement. The idea was for them to articulate what they know to be true about God and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Now I read all of these faith statements, and I can tell you that our young people did not write lists of facts, or theories of the universe, or systematic theologies. Instead, they wrote the truth—the truth as they have experienced it through hearing the Word of God, receiving the body and the blood of Jesus in communion, and through living in community with you here at Bethany.

Here is a sampling of the truth that sets us free, as the confirmands in the class of 2011 understand it:

“God is always there for me.
When God is on your side, numbers don’t count and size doesn’t matter.
God walks with me.
God pays attention to me.
God makes me strong in hard times.
I am a gift from God to the world!
God will help me make difficult decisions.
Even when I can’t hear God’s voice, God is there.
God knows the future…God gives us a future!
God heals us and helps us to bear pain in life.
God forgives and loves everyone!
I can trust in God!
God has been with me every single day, and knew me before I was born!
Even when I have doubts, God is with me.
I don’t have to do anything special to have a relationship with God!
God gives me courage to do what is right, even if it is unpopular.
God helps us learn from our mistakes."


***
Now this last one was interesting to me, especially coming from a group of teenagers, because some of us were teenagers once, and we never made mistakes, ever. Amen?

Actually, the truth is…we all make mistakes. We all, in fact, sin. And one of the truths that didn’t make it on this list of faith statements is the one Jesus mentions in today’s Gospel passage: “Truly I say to you: Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave doesn’t have a permanent place in the household; the Son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

Most of us have no way of understanding what true slavery is like, but I think teenagers (like our own confirmands) know very well what it means to feel like slaves. Teenagers know what it means to be slaves to fashion. They can feel like slaves to popularity or to achievement. They may feel they are in bondage to the judgment of others or to the expectations of teachers and parents. In some cases, teenagers may feel stuck with the life situation they were born into, or to the limitations of their town, their school, or their neighborhood.

Most importantly, teenagers can feel bound to the mistakes they’ve made.

The truth is, we all feel bound to our mistakes. We feel enslaved to our failings, our mistakes, our pasts, our addictions, or even to our grief.

But sisters and brothers, on this Reformation Day, we give thanks for the truth that Martin Luther brought to our attention: that we are saved by grace through faith, apart from works. The Son has set us free, and we are free indeed! Amen!

Sisters and brothers, God has said “yes” to each of us in our baptisms. God has said “yes” to us, while we were yet sinners and even though we fail even to live up to our best intentions.

Teenagers feel like they hear “no” a lot…but today I pray that our confirmands will hear God’s “yes” loud and clear. And as these young people affirm their faith today, I pray that you will also hear God’s resounding “yes” to you!

Yes, you will make mistakes.
Yes, you are forgiven.
Yes, the cross and the resurrection were enough, no matter what!
Yes, you are loved because of who you are!

And yes, you have gifts and talents that are needed in the world and in the church.

This isn’t secret knowledge. It isn’t a conspiracy theory. It is simply the truth as we know it. Thanks be to God! Amen.