Free at Last

Sermon - October 26th, 2014

Affirmation of Baptism Service

Free at Last

Pr. Paul Cannon

Grace and Peace Bethany Lutheran, a special welcome to all our guests ... and to our Confirmation class of 2014, I say,

Free at last, you are free at last!

Confirmation students, you guys are now free!  You’ve written your essays, you’ve done projects, been to camp, you’ve acolyted and turned in sermon notes, you’ve completed service hours and been to fellowship events - you’ve done a whole lot of stuff!

Some of you have younger brothers and sisters going through confirmation right now.  Feel free to laugh at them.

But YOU, you are done! You are free!  

• You don’t have to acolyte from today onward. In fact, this might be the last time in your life that you ever have to wear a white robe again!  
• You don’t have to listen to my sermons ever again.  You can sleep right through them, and unless you snore - nobody will know.  
• Nobody at church is ever going to make you volunteer for stuff, which (in any case) is kind of an oxymoron if you think about it.
• And you don’t have to go to fun youth events anymore - like Mega Trampoline.  You are perfectly free to stay at home and do your homework if that’s what you prefer.

Freedom is awesome and you guys are just starting to get your first taste of what that means.  Most of you are now in 9th grade.  You’ve started high school, which means that when your parents try to tell you what to do, you respond with an eye roll.  I get it.  You are longing for your freedom.  You don’t want your parents telling you to clean up your room.

But parents, if you think it’s bad right now, just wait, because in a year or so, a lot of your kids are going to go through driver’s ed (a terrifying thought if you know these kids!) - and when they do, freedom will take on a whole new meaning!

Freedom is a beautiful thing!

And so, not surprisingly, Jesus has a lot to say about freedom too.  He’s talking to his followers and he tells them, If you follow me, “you will know the Truth, and the Truth will make you free.”

That’s what today’s all about.  It’s your day to say that following Jesus is something that you want for your life.  Today you get the opportunity to say that this faith journey you’ve been on is something that you want to continue.

And Jesus says that when you follow him, he will make you free!

But let me be the first to tell you that Christian Freedom is a strange kind of freedom.  It doesn’t mean you can do whatever the heck you want.  Martin Luther, and I hope you all know by now that I’m not talking about Martin Luther King, the original Martin Luther once famously said this:

A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.  (And...)

A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.  

Or in other words, you are free and you’re not free. Get it? I didn’t think so.  Luther’s favorite thing to do was to confuse people with paradoxes.  

So let me try an analogy.  Has anybody ever seen that TV show, “Undercover Boss?”  

If you haven’t, it’s a pretty simple premise. It’s a reality TV show, where CEO’s from big companies like Subway would spend a week working in some of the lowest level positions that the company had to offer.

It’s a fitting analogy for what Christian freedom is like.  As followers of Christ, we are free.  We’re like the CEO.  We can kind of do whatever we want, and nobody is going to fire us.  We’ve been baptized.  God isn’t going to kick you out of the family when you mess up - even if you mess up big time.  

We’re the undercover boss here. Nobody is going to force you to do good things in your life.  God is not going to ground you if you don’t show up to church every week - though I can’t say the same for your parents.  You’re the CEO of your life.  You are a perfectly free Lord of all.  Subject to none.

And yet...there’s the other side of the coin. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant to all, subject to all. As followers of Jesus, we think of freedom differently than the rest of the world, because we know what we are being freed from.  

You see Jesus tells us that we are being freed from sin.  Sin is kind of a loaded word, because it can mean a lot of things, but at its most basic, sin is simply selfishness.  And that’s what I mean when I say sin, I mean selfishness.

In Christ, you’re free from sin. And if sin is our own selfishness, then what that means is that the thing that keeps you from being truly free, isn’t your parents, it isn’t school, it isn’t church or confirmation classes, it isn’t that you can’t drive yet - the thing that keeps you from being truly free is you.  

Jesus saves you from yourself - so that you are free to live as unselfishly as you can. And in that sense, freedom is service. Think about that.  If you had to do good works in order to get into heaven, ultimately all those good things you did, would be selfish. They would just be for your own good.  

And so, our Lord Jesus, died on a cross so that whoever believes in him may not perish, but may have eternal life. If that’s true, then heaven is no longer a bribe to make us do good things. And so, as Jesus said, “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

And that’s what today is all about.  You are free.

You don’t remember it, but when you were babies, you were all baptized.  And when that water was sprinkled on your forehead, a bunch of people made promises to you - your parents, the congregation, and the most important of which, was God.

God’s promise, was that you was that you would be connected to the death and resurrection of Jesus. You would be a part of his family - and being a part of God’s family means that you are free; You’re not a servant anymore.

You might remember that I asked each one of you in your interview if you wanted to be Confirmed.  And the reason I asked you that is because now it’s time for you to make those same promises that were made to you when you were baptized.  This isn’t your Mom’s choice.  It’s not your Dad’s choice.  It’s not your grandparent's choice. It’s not my choice.  It’s yours.

Class of 2014, you are going to make some promises.  

• You’re going to promise to continue this life of faith with the church - not alone (because alone is ultimately selfish), but with this community of people.  
• You’re going to promise to listen and share God’s word, to listen to the voiceless and to pray for the people around you.
• You’re going to promise to live Christ-like lives to the best of your ability - and that means to live unselfishly,  serving others and working to make this world a better place.  
• And when you realize you screwed up, like we all do, you are going to promise to seek forgiveness at the communion table and do it all over again.

To live free means to live unselfishly.  Confirmation class of 2014 - Do you think you can do that? If so, give me a “Yes.” Are you willing to follow Jesus even if it takes you places you didn’t want to go?  If so say “Yes.”  Do you think you can live for others, even when it’s not in your best interest?  If so say, “Yes.”

Then, Confirmation Class of 2014, you are free indeed.

Come Holy Spirit, Come.

Pentecost Sermon: June 8, 2014

Pentecost Sermon

June 8, 2014 

Preacher: Pastor Carrie Smith

John 20:19-23

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

Less than a month ago, it was snowing in Crystal Lake. Can you believe it? But summer is finally here. School is out (or almost out, depending on your district!). And the arrival of summer means one very important thing for kids of all ages: Summer Superhero Movies.

In case you hadn’t noticed, superhero movies are kind of a “thing” right now. Just in 2014, movies have been released featuring Robocop, Captain America, the Amazing Spiderman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, X-Men, Transformers, and the upcoming flick that’s getting a lot of buzz around my house: Guardians of the Galaxy. Moviemakers (and the bankers who fund them) have figured out that we Americans love our superhero movies. It can be the umpteenth reincarnation of Batman, or a complete retelling of Spiderman, or just a really bad comic book script about a minor character, and we will not only shell out the money, but will stand in line for hours (in costume!) to see it the first night.

I’m not an expert on movie culture and history, so I’m not sure if this is truly a new phenomenon. But I suspect there is something about the times we live in that makes these movies so attractive right now. I wonder if it has to do with the fear we’ve been conditioned to have about the state of the economy and the threat of terrorism.  Or maybe it’s a result of the instant information about world tragedies that comes to us, day and night, on our smartphones. It could be that we flock to see characters with super-human powers because we regular mortals often feel quite power-less. After all, if we don’t have the power to rid the universe of evil, it does feel good to sit in a dark, air-conditioned room and watch the Man of Steel or Catwoman do it without breaking sweat.  

If you’ve ever felt powerless or lost, confused or afraid in the face of the world’s problems, then you have good company in the ones Jesus called his friends and disciples. In today’s Gospel reading you heard how, on Easter evening, after hearing the news of Jesus’ resurrection, the disciples were all gathered in the house behind locked doors. These were men who had left everything and everyone they knew to follow an itinerant preacher and prophet. They had spoken truth against power. They had fed the poor. They had touched lepers and eaten with sinners. They had taken nothing with them, but relied only on the kindness of strangers for food and shelter. They didn’t always get it right, but they had walked boldly with Jesus, doing brave and risky things they never imagined they would do.

And now, here we see them, hiding behind locked doors. And why?                                                                                                                                        

Because they felt powerless.

They felt powerless to stop the so-called trial that convicted Jesus.

They felt powerless at the foot of the cross.

They felt powerless when he was laid in the tomb.

They felt powerless to fight the grave-robbers they imagined when they heard the tomb was empty.

They felt powerless (and skeptical) when the women told unbelievable stories of resurrection.

And now, hiding in this locked room as darkness fell, they felt powerless to face the future without Jesus. Gone was all the bravado and passion and activism that had inspired them on the journey. Now, they were just regular mortals, with regular powers, and no superhero to lead them in the fight against evil. They were afraid.

Then, suddenly, he was there, standing in front of them!  

Although the doors to the room were locked, the risen Christ came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” He proved who he was by showing them his hands and side. Once they were convinced, Scripture tells us “the disciples rejoiced.” Picture that room for a moment: Can’t you just hear the whooping and hollering? Can’t you see them crying and embracing, breathing sighs of relief? Can’t you see them releasing all that fear and tension, their shoulders resting a bit lower, their faces relaxing into smiles?

The disciples were ready to party, because their hero was once again with them, but Jesus had more important things to talk about. One more time, he said to them firmly, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

And then, knowing how they had locked the doors, knowing they were afraid, and understanding how powerless they felt, Jesus gave them a gift.

With all of the disciples gathered around him, Jesus breathed on them and said “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  

And bam! Those who were once Fearful Followers of a Failed Prophet are now Mighty Members of a Movement. Each and every one of the disciples received the Holy Spirit and became powerful beyond their wildest imaginations. The presence of the Holy Spirit, a gift from God, empowered the disciples to continue Jesus’ mission.

And what was that superpower? What was it that the Spirit empowered them to do?

It was the power…(Drumroll…) to forgive sins!

Wow. Picture that room again. Can you hear the dead silence? Can you see the perplexed faces of the disciples?

I don’t know about you, but I might have liked to receive a different superpower in that moment. I mean, there are so many choices, Jesus!

I don’t need to fly or climb walls or turn things into perpetual winter.

But I might like the power to cure cancer!

Or I might be interested in the power to take away a family member’s addiction;

The power to predict the future;

The power to grow money trees;

The power to make someone love me;

Or the power to make everything the way it used to be!

Really, any of those would be just fine, Jesus.

But Jesus said: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

The disciples, once aimless, powerless, and afraid, had received both a purpose and power through the gift of the Holy Spirit. They were empowered to go…and forgive.

My sisters and brothers in Christ, on this Pentecost Sunday, we celebrate how we, too, through the presence of the Holy Spirit, have received purpose and power beyond our imagination. On the day of our baptism we were brought to the waters of salvation, just like Alyssa, Eli, Peyton, Mason and Kaylee, who are baptized today. And there, at the waters, we were marked with the cross of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit.

We've been sealed by the Holy Spirit, and that means that we, who often feel powerless and afraid, have nothing to fear. Just as the tongues of fire fell upon each and every head on the day of Pentecost in Acts chapter 1, each of you has received power through the Holy Spirit! You did nothing to earn it. You didn’t even have to prove you could use it. The Spirit of God is a gift, bestowed upon you at baptism, empowering you to continue God’s mission in the world. 

And we begin that mission, says Jesus, by practicing forgiveness.

Now, the power to forgive might seem a small thing in the face of the world’s great problems.

Forgiveness might seem an insignificant weapon in the war on poverty, for example, or in the struggle against oppression and injustice.

But then, consider: How many people are walking around needing peace and forgiveness?

How many are burdened with guilt over past wrongs?

How many walls have been erected out of fear, resentment, and misunderstanding?

How many poisons infect the lives of those who harbor anger?

How much war has been committed because world leaders could not (or would not) forgive centuries’ old grievances?

How much pain, how much sorrow, how much evil in the world do you suppose is a direct result of the human need to forgive, and to be forgiven?

Jesus said “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Jesus was sent to walk among us because God, the creator, loves the world more than we can imagine. God loves us so much that through the cross, the sin of the world is already forgiven. All of it! Every one! Yours, and mine. The mistakes we’ve already made and the ones we haven’t thought of yet. Finally, and forever. Once and for all.

So if the cross already took care of it, and all is forgiven, why do we need to practice forgiveness? 

Because even if we’ve heard the good news, we don’t always remember it—or believe it applies to us. Even if we believe we are forgiven, we may not extend the same gift to others.

And it’s all that guilt, fear, anxiety, judgment, and secrets that become the cosmic poison that creates war, conflict, resentment, distrust, and evil.

But you are not powerless, sisters and brothers. You, who are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, have superpowers! You, who have been forgiven, are sent by Jesus to continue the powerful divine work of forgiveness.

 Through the Holy Spirit, you have the power to release hearts from prisons of guilt and shame.

Through the Holy Spirit, you have the power to put to rest age-old family conflicts.

Through the Holy Spirit, you have the power to tear down walls.

Through the Holy Spirit, you have the power to make peace. 

Sisters and brothers, united by the Holy Spirit, you are Mighty Members of a Movement. And this powerful movement starts with forgiveness.

 Repeat after me, saying: “In Christ, I am forgiven.”   

And the next step goes something like this: Turn to your neighbor and let them know: “Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I forgive you.” 

The peace of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit be with you all! 

Pentecost Sermon 2013: Pastor Carrie Smith

Pentecost Sermon: May 19, 2013

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

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

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

This morning we heard the story of the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit fell upon a gathering of believers like fire, giving them the ability to speak other languages. We sometimes call this the “birthday of the church”, and not only because it’s a good reason to eat cake! We call this the birthday of the church because it marks the beginning of something new. It was this day when God gifted believers with a new mission and purpose: to share the Good News of Jesus Christ across the boundaries of language, culture, race, gender, orientation, class, economic status, political persuasion or physical ability. On Pentecost, God sent us out beyond every boundary humans have ever created—and through the gift of the Holy Spirit, God gave us the power to do it.

Some of you are wearing your Pentecost red this morning, but even so, you may not be feeling especially powerful, particularly if you have ever tried to cross one of these boundaries and experienced just how hard it can be. We humans are master architects and builders of separation walls. If you’ve ever worked on an interfaith committee or an anti-racism team; if you’ve tried to help a classroom understand your child’s disability; if you’ve ever lived in another country or learned another language, you know the walls that separate us are high and often difficult to climb.

I learned something about boundaries—and how the Holy Spirit transcends them—when I was twenty years old and had the chance to study in Germany for a year.

The first new language I learned to speak that year abroad wasn’t actually German, but rather the language of public transportation. Public transit is something that just didn’t exist in small-town Oklahoma. Your choice for gettin’ around where I came from was essentially a choice of “vehicle”: car or truck.

But in one 24 hour period on my journey to Germany, I experienced my first overseas plane ride, followed by my first train, first street car, and first taxi ride. Then, once my bags were unpacked at my hosts’ home, they asked if I’d like to accompany their daughter at her rowing lesson. Soon, there I was, in my first rowboat, rowing down the Rhine River.

Needless to say, the study abroad experience was overwhelming and disorienting. I looked for comfort and stability in church. I had just recently joined the Roman Catholic Church back home (that story is a sermon for another day!) so I started attending daily mass at the huge cathedral in Mainz, where I was living.

It didn’t take long to realize this church was very different from my small, liberal, university campus parish in Oklahoma. I didn’t understand the language. I didn’t know any of the hymns. There was lots of standing up and sitting down that we didn’t do at home. And at age 20, I was a good 60 years younger than anyone else attending those early morning masses. It was beyond discouraging, but I kept going, praying hard to feel the presence of God in my life that I so dearly missed.

Adding to my sense of being out of place was this one woman at the church who always seemed to be staring at me. She made me nervous, with her long black dress and her little head doily. Her nose-hairs alone were enough to put the fear of God in you! Every day when I arrived, she was already there praying, and let’s just say: her demeanor was less than welcoming.

One morning, as I arrived and quietly found a spot to kneel and pray, nose-hair lady began to shuffle towards me. I did a quick mental check: What had I done wrong? Was my skirt too short? Did I sit in her pew?

When she got to me, I cautiously looked up at her and then nearly fainted, because she was smiling at me! Without saying a word, she reached out and took my hand. She pressed into it something small and hard. Then she just held my hands in hers for a few moments and looked into my eyes before going back to her usual place to pray.

When I opened my hand I saw it was a tiny silver medal, with an image of a baby dressed in royal clothing. I truly had no idea what it was or what I should do with it! Later, I found out it was an image of the Infant Jesus of Prague. At that moment, however, it meant one thing to me: I wasn’t alone. God was with me even in this foreign land. And this woman had been praying for me!  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, God was speaking to me through this woman, across the boundaries of language, culture, and generation. This was a Pentecost moment for me.


There have been other Pentecost moments that stand out in my mind. Once, when I was having pregnancy complications, my Egyptian neighbor brought me the biggest pot of soup I had ever seen, and without saying a word she communicated that God was with me even on bed-rest. Another time, it was I who was given the gift of tongues, when I found myself sitting on an airplane next to a man who spoke no English and was traveling from Germany to, of all places, Oklahoma City. Between us, we managed to have a conversation in something you might call “Jerklish”. But when I was able to understand that he wanted water “mit Gas” or “with bubbles” and arranged for the flight attendant to bring a bottle of Perrier, you could see the tension and fear leave his shoulders and his face.

Now, you might be saying, “Pastor Carrie, I don’t see how this has anything to do with the Holy Spirit! You’re just talking about the power of a smile, the power of food, or the power of kindness and a glass of water. What does this have to do with God?”

To which I might respond: “Oh, how we limit God’s presence and power in our lives!”

In fact, our under-estimation of God’s power is what made the Day of Pentecost so scandalous! There they were, the faithful of the early church of Jesus Christ, all gathered together in one room, and when they experienced that first Holy Spirit smackdown and started speaking in tongues, no one could understand what was happening. The devout religious folk living in Jerusalem said, “Aren’t these all just poor fishermen from Galilee? Where did they learn to speak my mother tongue?” Most assumed they were drunk, even at nine in the morning, which just shows you the kind of reputation and standing Christians enjoyed at the time of the early church. But what other explanation could there be for simple, ordinary people, suddenly gifted with the ability to cross over boundaries of religion, language, race, and culture?

Indeed, what explanation can there be for those moments when a smile, a pot of soup, or an act of kindness communicates God’s love between people who otherwise share nothing in common?

On the Day of Pentecost, it was Peter who stood in the assembly and announced that this was in fact the power of God at work! This strange event was just the beginning of God’s presence and power in the lives of the faithful through the gift of the Holy Spirit.  This is the work of the Advocate, whom Jesus promised, who makes our sons and daughters prophesy; who makes our young men see visions, and our old men dream dreams; and who gives us a peace that passes all understanding.

So sisters and brothers in Christ, if the power of Holy Spirit can be found working through a bunch of poor fishermen from Galilee or a pot of soup from a neighbor, then who are we to limit the Spirit’s power to transcend other boundaries in our lives? How is the Holy Spirit at work through this community?

We say “Surely it can’t make any difference if we try to sing a hymn in Spanish in worship. I might sound ridiculous—I don’t even know what I’m singing.” And yet, for your neighbor, this could be a Pentecost moment, when the Spirit empowers you to sing the Good News in her mother tongue.
We say, “I love to knit. But how can that prayer shawl I knitted really help to spread the Good News?” And yet, this week, in my role as a member of the County Mental Health Board, I heard from a counselor how she picked up two of Bethany’s prayer shawls at the FaithBridge Interfaith Thanksgiving Service, and gave them to a woman and her daughter who were in great need. Today, the little girl still has hers on her bed at home, and the mother finds comfort knowing she is wrapped in the prayers of those she doesn’t even know.

We say, “I’m 80 years old, and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks! How can the Holy Spirit possibly work through me?” And yet today we pray a blessing over Mavis Bagby, age 80, who is traveling to Uganda next week to accompany the people there. I have no doubt Mavis will experience many Pentecost moments, as the Holy Spirit works through her and through the Ugandan people to transcend boundaries of language, race, class and privilege in service to God’s mission.

And today we are blessed to be witnesses to the baptisms of four new brothers and sisters in Christ: Jimmie, Natalie, Myles and James. Through water and the Word, God claims them today as God’s own, forever marked with the cross of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit. But my favorite part of the baptism liturgy is after the water, when I have the honor of laying my hands on each of their heads and praying these words:

“Sustain Myles (and Natalie, and Jimmie, and James) with the gift of your Holy Spirit: the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the Spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever. Amen.”

 

This is my favorite part of the baptism liturgy because, like that Day of Pentecost in the second chapter of Acts, I know it is the beginning of something new. This is the baptismal birthday of Myles, Natalie, James, and Jimmie. This is the day we celebrate that each of them is gifted with God’s Holy Spirit, and from this day forward is sent out into the world in God’s service. Who can say how the Spirit might work through them? Who can say which boundaries they will erase, which walls they will tear down, or whose languages they will speak? Who can say how they will prophesy, dream dreams, or cast visions for the church and for the world? Who can limit how God may use each of them to share the extravagant love of Jesus Christ to those who need to hear it?

Sisters and brothers, through the cross of Christ and his resurrection, every barrier that stood between us and God is gone forever. And now, through the gift of the Holy Spirit, God has empowered believers to remove every barrier that stands between us and our neighbors.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

2nd Sunday after Pentecost: June 10, 2012

2^nd Sunday after Pentecost: June 10, 2012

Mark 3:20-35

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

*Many thanks to Anna Carter Florence and her book "Preaching as Testimony" (Westminster John Knox Press, 2007) for introducing me to the story of Jarena Lee. Thanks also to Dr. Craig Satterlee for his Logjam Appointment which provided the inspiration for this sermon.*

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

Jarena Lee was born in Cape May, New Jersey, on February 11, 1783. She was most likely born to free parents, but at the age of seven her family’s poverty meant she was hired out as a servant and would not see her family again for fourteen years. This was effectively a legal form of slavery, and an all-too common African-American story of the time.

As a result of these difficult beginnings, Jarena struggled with depression and feelings of abandonment her whole life, but in 1804, at the age of twenty-one, she moved to Philadelphia to gain a fresh start. Her first order of business was to find a place to worship, and that she did, at the African Methodist Episcopal Church headed by Pastor Richard Allen. Upon finding her church family, she wrote, “This is the people to whom my heart unites.” 

But just three weeks into her time at the A.M.E. church, Jarena experienced a strange thing. Just as the preacher was beginning his Sunday sermon, Jarena writes:

“That moment, though hundreds were present, I did leap to my feet and declare that God, for Christ’s sake, had pardoned the sins of my soul…For a few moments I had the power to exhort sinners, and to tell of the wonders and of the goodness of Him who had clothed me with His salvation. During this time the minister was silent, until my soul felt its duty had been performed, when he declared another witness of the power of Christ to forgive sins on earth, was manifest in my conversion.” 

Now a parishioner leaping to her feet in the middle of a sermon would certainly get our attention today here at Bethany, but in 1804 there were some very good reasons why this would be more than odd—most notably, the fact that Jarena Lee was a woman.

If a man had leaped to his feet in such a manner, one might have expected him to be called in to the pastor’s office, perhaps taken under his wing and nurtured into an assistant preacher. But women were not only forbidden from being preachers in the year 1804—they weren’t even allowed to speak in church. This event, therefore, was for Jarena and her church community nothing more than an exciting anomaly in an otherwise normal Sunday worship service. No one called Jarena into the pastor’s office. No one recommended seminary or suggested she call the candidacy committee. No one took her seriously, because Jarena was a woman, and of course, God doesn’t work that way.

A few years later, however, in 1811, it happened again. Jarena writes:

“On a certain time, an impressive silence fell upon me, and I stood as if some one was about to speak to me, yet I had no such thought in my heart.—But to my utter surprise there seemed to sound a voice which I thought I distinctly heard, and most certainly understand, which said to me, “Go preach the Gospel”! I immediately replied aloud, “No one will believe me.” Again I listened, and again the same voice seemed to say—“Preach the Gospel; I will put words in your mouth, and will turn your enemies to become your friends.”

This time, Jarena began to seriously doubt her sanity. Maybe this was Satan speaking, and not God! After all, there were exactly zero “lady pastors” in her life to act as role models or mentors. Women preachers were as unbelievable as unicorns or the Cubs winning a World Series. How could she be certain this was God calling her? Just to be sure, Jarena went in to visit her pastor, Richard Allen.

Pastor Allen listened carefully as Jarena explained that God had called her to preach. And then he coolly commented that “the Discipline knew nothing at all about it—that it did not call for women preachers.” Call it tradition, call it church authority, call it “good order”, but for Jarena Lee, the answer was, “God doesn’t work that way.” 

So Jarena went home and did what many a frustrated woman preacher has done: she married one instead. Sadly, just six years later her husband, the Reverend Joseph Lee, died, leaving her with two small children. And Jarena couldn’t ignore the call any longer.

So she went back to visit Pastor Allen, and this time he granted her permission to hold “prayer meetings” and to “exhort” but of course never to preach. Why? Because, of course, God doesn’t work that way.

But one Sunday in worship, the preacher stood up and read the text from Jonah and then—in Jarena’s words—he seemed to “lose the Spirit.” So Jarena leaped to her feet and interrupted the preacher. 

“I told them I was like Jonah; for it had been then nearly eight years since the Lord had called me to preach his gospel to the fallen sons and daughters of Adam’s race, but that I had lingered like him, and delayed to go at the bidding of the Lord…During the exhortation, God made manifest his power in a manner sufficient to show the world that I was called to labor according to my ability, and the grace given unto me.”

When she sat down, Jarena braced herself to be thrown out of the church or at least publicly reprimanded. Instead, Pastor Allen stood up and told the congregation that God had changed his mind. He now believed that Jarena was indeed called preach! And really, what choice did he have? There she was: a unicorn; a preaching woman right there in their midst. 

After that day, Jarena went on to become the first woman licensed to preach in the A.M.E. church (a full 150 years before the ELCA, by the way) and to have a thirty year preaching career. She was also only the second African-American woman to have a book published—a book in which she chronicles how she "travelled two thousand three hundred and twenty-five miles, and preached one hundred and seventy-eight sermons.” God does work that way, it turns out.

Jarena Lee’s story highlights the way we so often get caught up in our judgments about how God can and does work in the world. It wasn’t too long ago that our denomination said: “Women can’t preachers! God doesn’t work that way!” And yet here I stand—along with Angela and Mary Carol and a host of other female Lutheran preachers who came before us. 

Women’s ordination is generally a non-issue for us today, but there are certainly others we get hung up on. 

Gay people can’t get married! God doesn’t work that way.

You can’t just welcome everybody to communion! God doesn’t work that way.

You can’t just feed people, because they’ll keep coming back! God doesn’t work that way. 

You can’t heal people on the Sabbath, Jesus! God doesn’t work that way.

You can’t send fishermen to cast out demons, Jesus! God doesn’t work that way. 

You can’t forgive everyone, all their sins, Jesus, and in such a dramatic and public way! God doesn’t work that way.

Most often, of course, when we say “God doesn’t work that way” what we really mean is “the church doesn’t work that way” or “our culture doesn’t work that way” or “our government doesn’t work that way”…or, if we’re honest: “I don’t feel comfortable when God works that way.”

This is what is happening in the scene from Mark chapter 3 which we heard this morning. Jesus was surrounded by the crowds, who were so eager to see him he couldn’t even find time to eat. He was healing people right and left, even on the Sabbath, and even when they were unclean. He was eating with tax collectors and sinners. He was silencing demons and teaching with authority. But others were uncomfortable with Jesus working like this. In fact, his family heard the rumors that he was out of his mind, and they showed up to haul him home. 

And the scribes—well, the scribes were like the pastor and other church authorities who told Jarena Lee “our discipline doesn’t call for woman preachers”. The scribes took one look at what Jesus was doing and said “God doesn’t work that way. This must be Beelzebul. He’s obviously possessed by a demon!” In other words: “You’re making us uncomfortable, Jesus.”

And Jesus’ response is one that should make us sit up and take notice.

There are many sins which we humans might consider to be unforgivable. And yet Jesus has said that the one thing God cannot forgive is blaspheming against the Holy Spirit—which, contrary to what I thought when growing up, has nothing to do with spouting four-letter words. Blaspheming against the Holy Spirit, as seen in this Gospel passage, is denying the work of God. Blaspheming against the Holy Spirit is what happens when we take a look at who Jesus is healing, who God is forgiving, who God is calling to preach the Gospel, or how the Spirit is moving in a place and among a people and say: “Nope. God doesn’t work that way. That must be Satan.”

Jesus directed these strong words to a people who thought they knew everything.  This was very bad news for the scribes and authority figures who thought they had the power to decide how God works and when. For there he was, standing before them: Jesus, son of a carpenter and Son of God; Jesus, healer of our souls; Jesus, friend of the friendless; Jesus, our brother; Jesus Christ, our Savior, come to set the captives free. 

And this Jesus, crucified and risen, reveals to us the Good News that God does indeed work this way:

God forgives beyond our deepest hopes.

God heals against anyone’s rules. 

God creates family where we least expect it. 

God saves us from our own judgments.

God seeks out the lost.

God makes a way out of no way.

God is still speaking—and still shattering our expectations.

Wherever we see healing, wholeness, forgiveness and reconciliation rising out of judgment, fear, and brokenness, we see Jesus Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit, and we can say without a doubt, “Yes, indeed God does work that way!”

HOLY TRINITY/BAPTISM SUNDAY

HOLY TRINITY/BAPTISM SUNDAY: June 3, 2012

John 3:1-16

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

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

  This morning we began worship with some sprinkling and the invitation to “Come to the water and remember your baptism.” For those of you who were baptized as infants—which is the norm among Lutherans—this may seem a strange invitation. How can I remember my baptism, when I was only six weeks old at the time? For that matter, how can I remember my baptism, when most days I can’t remember what I had for breakfast?

Gene Bengston does remember his baptism. He was about 12 years old, and he was baptized at Zion Lutheran in Kewanee, Illinois along with his older brother. These were the years of the Great Depression, and in the view of Gene’s father, if you didn’t have money to put in the offering plate, you didn’t go to church. There was no money, so no church for a long while for Gene and his 13 siblings.

But then it came time for one of the older brothers to get confirmed, and when the pastor learned he wasn’t yet baptized, arrangements were made.  It was done in private—just Gene and his parents and brother, and definitely not on a Sunday morning. Some of you (especially Mr. Bengston’s former 8th grade Confirmation students) may enjoy knowing that his primary concern—in fact, his main thought after this blessed event—was, “Hey…maybe I won’t have to go to Confirmation!” After all, at twelve he must already be old enough to fulfill his baptismal promises on his own. Feel free, confirmands, to ask Mr. Bengston how that conversation went with his pastor.

Mary Ellen Thoreson does not remember her baptism, but she knows the story well. She’s been told many times how she was baptized on Palm Sunday—the only day of the year her family’s Methodist church celebrated baptisms—and there were eleven other babies being dunked that day. Twelve babies sort of makes our “Baptismapalooza” look like small potatoes!

Now I have experienced Mary Ellen to be a thoughtful, kind, and somewhat quiet woman. But on that day, 3 month old Mary Ellen was screaming at the top of her lungs. In fact, she screamed so loud and so long that the pastor had to shout to be heard over her! And then, without warning, Mary Ellen was suddenly quiet—and this left the poor pastor screaming at his parishioners: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit!”

We can all remember the baptismal birthday of Marianne and Dick Anderson’s daughter Suzanne, because she was baptized on July 20, 1969, which also happens to be the day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. I couldn’t help but wonder if the pastor mentioned the upcoming moonwalk in his sermon that day, but Marianne says no. What a missed opportunity! I realize the moonwalk didn’t happen until later that day, and those famous words had not yet been spoken, but oh, how I would have loved the chance to mention that baptism is “One small splash for humans, but one giant bath of grace for humankind.” Amen?

Here at Bethany we are preparing to meet next week the young man who is our candidate to be Associate Pastor for Youth and Family Ministries. His name is Paul, and as we began the interviewing process I spoke with him on the phone. I had read in his paperwork that Paul was raised in Utah, so one of the first things I asked was, “Do you know anything about Crystal Lake and the Chicagoland area?” I certainly never expected the answer he gave. “Actually, Pastor Carrie…I think I might have been baptized at Bethany!”

And this is most certainly true: Paul Cannon (and his identical twin brother, Neal, as well as two sisters) were all baptized here in this font, in the midst of this community, a few decades ago. Nothing in his profile would have indicated this to the bishop or his staff, and until he asked his parents for sure, even Paul wasn’t certain of it, for he moved away when he was quite young.

And yet, here we are, preparing to meet a young man for whom this community made promises so many years ago. On the day when Paul and his twin brother were brought to the water, this community promised to support Paul and pray for him in his new life in Christ. As a community, you promised to be there for him—praying, providing a Christian education, supporting his family, forgiving, loving, and most of all, showing him how to be the body of Christ in the world. And now it seems he may have the opportunity to fulfill those baptismal promises himself: praying for us, forgiving us, loving us, and helping to provide a quality Christian education for the next generation in this community.

Community is the most common thread in nearly all the baptism stories I heard this week.  Above all else, we most often remember (or have been told) who was there with us on that important day: pastors, parents, godparents, siblings, friends, a church community. And that’s why, sisters and brothers, it is so very appropriate for us to celebrate baptisms on Holy Trinity Sunday. The Holy Trinity, in all its mystery, is perhaps best understood as God in community.

Camillus Lyimo, in the book “African Christian Spirituality”, writes:

“Though for us knowledge of the life of the Trinity is indeed little, yet we can say that the most perfect community or ujamaa is the Trinity. The Trinity establishes God as community. Jesus Christ revealed the Trinity to us. God wished to share with humanity and with the entire creation his own community life in the person of Jesus Christ…Our life is a shared life in the Trinity.”
In our individualistic culture, baptism is often treated as a personal, individual, “Get out of sin free” card. But on Holy Trinity Sunday, we are reminded that the God who is present with us in the water and the Word is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—one in three and three in one, a community in God’s self—making baptism anything but an individual experience. Through baptism, we are united with all the baptized in the one body of Christ, anointed with the gift of the Holy Spirit, and joined in God's mission for the life of the world.

Lutherans baptize infants chiefly because we trust in God’s free gift of grace, seen in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and poured out on all the baptized. But because we baptize infants, we also we put our trust in community. We know that Johnathan, Ivana, Reese, Prestyn, Grant, Jackson and Liam do not come to the water of their own accord or with faith in God today. We trust in community—this community—to fulfill the promises of baptism.

In the years to come we will love them, pray for them, place in their hands the Holy Scriptures, and tell them about Abraham and Sarah, David and Goliath, Jonah and Noah, and Mary and Joseph. We will forgive them as Christ forgave us; we will gather with them at the table to share the bread and the wine; and we will watch eagerly to see how God uses them in God’s mission to the world.
And we will help them remember their baptisms.

When bullies try to tell our children who they are, we help them remember they belong to Christ, in whom they were baptized.

When cancer or addiction or depression try to claim our sons and daughters, we help them remember they have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and claimed as sons and daughters of God.

When society labels children as learning disabled, troublemakers, underachievers, or simply “different”, we help them remember they have been marked with the cross of Christ forever.

When any child of God doubts her worth or becomes weighed down by sin and judgment, we help her remember she has been washed clean, once and for all, through water and the Word.

And when, like Nicodemus, our children ask us, “How can these things be?” we will speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen: God so loved the world that God gave God’s only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

And all God’s people said: Amen.

DAY OF PENTECOST: May 27, 2012

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

Acts 2:1-21; Romans 8:22-27; John 15:26-27, 4b-15

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

Sisters and brothers, let me be clear: This may be Memorial Day weekend, but Pentecost is not a memorial day for the Holy Spirit. Sometimes, of course, it can be hard to tell the difference.

After all, for Memorial Day we wear special colors: red, white and blue in memory of Americans who fought and died for freedom. And on Pentecost we wear special colors, too: red, or perhaps yellow and orange, in memory of that day when the Spirit rained down like tongues of fire and made the disciples free—free to share the Good News with neighbors and friends and to the ends of the earth.

On Memorial Day, the marching band plays and the drums roll in honor of our soldiers. And on Pentecost, we pull out the drums, too, and invite dancers to church, in honor of the fact that Christians can clap and dance to worship God anytime we want to! (…but we just don’t feel like it most of the time.)

On Memorial Day, every politician is a patriot, and heart-warming words are guaranteed to be spoken from every podium. And on Pentecost, we break out the Spanish and German and Swedish, speaking tongues in the pulpit and from the pews—and for at least one Sunday you would think we truly are the multi-lingual, cross-cultural, racially diverse congregation that was gathered on that first Pentecost morning (…but just don’t ask us to sing that setting of the liturgy that’s in Spanish, Pastor.)

But in spite of our red paraments, our global music and our prayers in foreign tongues, Pentecost can nevertheless seem like a memorial service for the Holy Spirit. Because we pull out all the stops just this once a year, it feels like more of a commemoration than a celebration.

Do you remember when we had the Spirit?

Remember that Global Mission Event where everyone was clapping and singing in Swahili? The Spirit was there for sure.

Remember when we went to camp, and we danced in worship? That was definitely the Spirit.

Remember when we tore down the old sanctuary and built a whole new one? Remember when we started the PADS ministry and opened the preschool? Wow, the Spirit was really moving back then.

Remember when we were young, when we were bold, and when the Holy Spirit seemed so near to us?

Do you remember?

Sisters and brothers, let me say it again: Pentecost is not a memorial day for the Spirit.

Pentecost is a celebration of the living God. It’s a festival day, set aside to honor the Spirit who is still here. God’s Holy Spirit is among us even now: poured out upon you in your baptism, interceding every day with sighs too deep for words, and guiding us into all truth—whether we notice her or not.
This is not a memorial service for the Holy Spirit! But…the colors, the music, and the languages of this day do invoke a dangerous memory: they awaken in us of the truth of God’s presence in and among us. And for this reason, our Pentecost worship traditions do have a purpose. The sights and sounds of this day serve to prime the pump, to open our eyes, to awaken our senses, and to fan the flame of the Spirit so we once again surrender to her fiery presence among us. 

And then, we can sing together in all truth: Come thou fount of every blessing! Tune my heart to sing thy grace!

A few months ago a miracle happened: it was a Saturday night, the sermon was already written, and both of our sons were occupied with sleepovers.  My spouse and I jumped at the chance to go into Chicago for dinner and a show. Because it was a last minute date, we chose to eat at the restaurant just next door to the theater. It happened to be a Middle Eastern restaurant run by Palestinians. Robert, of course, couldn’t wait to compare the food with his favorites from his many travels to the Holy Land, so he asked the waitress if we could speak with the chef.

Now this is usually the moment when I cringe with embarrassment. Robert is always doing things like this: chatting with the taxi driver about that time when he visited his home village in Palestine, or asking the pharmacist about her accent and correctly guessing she was from Senegal, or somehow knowing the exact spot in Cairo from which Christiane Amanpour is reporting on CNN. This was no exception.

But when the chef came out he knelt by the table to chat, and we learned he was from Jerusalem. He was a Muslim but had attended St. George’s, an Episcopal school in Jerusalem. He had many good things to say about Christians in general and Lutherans in particular. And then he said, “My brother is still in Jerusalem. He has a shop there across from the Sbitany Center.”

I sat with my mouth hanging open as Robert said, “Oh, yes—on Salahadin street, on the corner between two flower shops.” The chef was flabbergasted—shocked enough, in fact, to later send out free desserts for the two of us.

Just last month when Robert returned to Jerusalem, he stopped in to that very shop. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he simply opened with: “Hi. I was in a restaurant in Chicago and met the chef, who says his brother owns a shop here.”

To which the shop owner replied: “This is MY brother! You have come to the right shop!” He was so amazed that an American Christian would take the time to pass along a message from one Muslim brother to another, across continents, cultures, and creeds, the shopkeeper said: “You must come home with me. You must talk with my mother.”

Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. (Acts 2:3-4)

Come thou fount of every blessing: Tune my heart to sing thy grace.

When we lived in Waco, Texas, Robert and I were grateful to qualify for the public school’s free preschool program. I eagerly took 4 year old Caleb with me to Doris Miller Elementary to register on that first day—and right away I noted that we looked quite different from the rest of the student body. In fact, Caleb was not only the sole white child in the class, but in the entire school. We were encountering the reality of a divided city—whites on one side of town, blacks on the other; money on one side of town and none on the other—and we, it seemed, were living on the “wrong side of town.”

We decided not address this with 4 year old Caleb, because, after all, being the “token” is a reality for children of color nearly every day—but we wondered when (or if) the color divide would become an issue for him at school.

And then, one day, about four months into school, it happened.

Caleb came in from school and excitedly said “MOM! Guess what! I just noticed something about my friends today.” “What’s that?” I asked a little nervously.

“Mom, we were counting things today and you know what? I’m the only kid with blue eyes in our whole class!”

‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. (Acts 2:17)

Come thou fount of every blessing: Tune my heart to sing thy grace.

In 2003, my father-in-law died at the age of 52. He had been chronically ill for a long time, but his death was rather sudden. Robert and I were living in Minnesota, finishing up graduate school, and cash was more than tight.

But as soon as we got the call, we rushed to Oklahoma on gas cards and coupons and with the kind help of a state trooper who rescued us when a tire blew on the turnpike somewhere near Wichita. In times like these, you do what needs to be done, and that’s what we did.

It was a trying, emotional week, but the drive home was filled with just as much anxiety. We had emptied our bank account, and Robert, who was paid hourly, had missed an entire week of work, which meant another lean week to come. I wondered how we would even buy groceries when we got home. But I didn’t say much about it. After saying good-bye to Ed at such a young age, my stress about groceries and the budget seemed, well—inconsequential. I didn’t mention it to Robert. I probably didn’t even pray. I was determined to work it out on my own.

But when we arrived home and I was standing in the kitchen of our student apartment, reading through the stack of mail from the week before, I came across a letter from a good friend from high school. I realized I hadn’t called her to tell her about Robert’s dad, and made a mental note to call the next day.

But as I opened the envelope, something green fell out. $50, to be exact. It wasn’t the Mega-Millions jackpot, but it was enough to purchase food for the week. A windfall in our budget.
My friend had written this:

“I was about to go shopping today, but God told me you needed this money more than I did. I have no idea why I’m sending this to you, but I figured you would know. Love, Karla.”

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. (Romans 8:26)

Come thou fount of every blessing: Tune my heart to sing thy grace.

Sisters and brothers, I stand here as a witness, testifying to the presence of God’s Holy Spirit among us today. God is still speaking. The grace of our Lord Jesus is with us. And the Holy Spirit—our Comforter, Advocate, Sustainer, and Intercessor—will guide us into all truth. And all God’s people said: Amen!