February 2021
"Bear You Up"
Based on Isaiah 40:21-31 and Mark 1:29-39 (text is available below)
February 7, 2021
A long time ago, my mother had an old metal plaque that hung in our living room from when I was a child until after her death. It had the image of an eagle flying above a mountain peak. Printed below were words from today’s Isaiah reading: “Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.”
This is one of my favorite passages from the Bible. Words I read frequently when I was young. Words that have given me comfort and encouragement during painful times.
We didn’t have eagles around my hometown. The first time I remember seeing one was along the Minnesota River, which flowed through St. Peter, where I went to college. One day, while canoeing with a couple friends, we saw eagles perched in trees on the riverbank. A rare sighting back then. Thankfully, eagles are on the increase today. I’ve even seen what look like eagles flying over the synagogue here in Fargo.
In Hebrew, the word for eagle in this verse is “nesher”—which refers specifically to griffon vultures, which are common in Israel. It’s translated as “eagle” in English, because we Americans have a pretty negative view of vultures. And find much more inspiration in eagles—after all, the bald eagle has been our national symbol since 1782.
However, a Jewish rabbi named Natan Slifkin (who’s known at the “Zoo Rabbi” because of his articles about animals) once wrote:
“If referring to a griffon vulture, verses [like this one in Isaiah] show that it is regarded by the Torah very differently from the way… it is perceived in contemporary culture…. The Torah presents [the vulture] as an example of a loving and caring parent. This… relates to the vulture’s… parenting process. Female griffon vultures usually lay one egg, which both parents incubate for an unusually long period of around seven weeks…. The young are slow to develop and do not leave the nest until three or four months of age. The long devotion of the vulture to its young symbolizes God’s deep dedication to the Jewish People.” *
Both vultures and eagles have been observed teaching their young to fly. One bird watcher shared his observation of a pair of golden eagles. He described how the parent birds—after urging and sometimes shoving the youngster out of a tree and into the air—will swoop down underneath and let the young bird rest for a moment on their wings and back. **
Which sounds a lot like what Isaiah says: “Even youths (you could insert “young birds”) will become weary and fall exhausted, but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.”
I can think of times during the past year—as I’m sure you can, too—when I’ve just felt exhausted by everything that was happening. Like the COVID pandemic, which is still with us after nearly a year. Like the political dialogue of hate, which still continues. Like the social isolation, which still keeps us away from our community of faith, close friends and loved ones.
The promise of these words from Isaiah is that during times like these, God is the mother eagle who flies beside us. Who closely watches our every struggle. Who gently swoops under us and bears us up when we can’t fly on our own. Believing that God and our faith community is with us during difficult times can become the thing that hold us up and keeps us going during our life journey.
In her book, Being at Home in the World, Laetitia Mizero Hellerud (whom many of us know) tells the story of her journey as a refugee from her homeland of Burundi in Africa. As a four-time refugee, Laetitia talks about what has helped her be resilient despite the many obstacles and losses she faced. She writes:
“When I think about life, there is one clear conclusion that can be drawn by anyone: life comes in cycles and seasons. I have had good times and bad, unbelievably awesome experiences followed with extremely stressful and, at times, dangerous situations…. Understanding and accepting that there will always be situations that I can’t control is empowering. Leaving God or a higher power in charge of… those situations is liberating. Having faith in humanity, that someone will reach out to help you when you are in need, can give you optimism when you least expect it…. When the seas are rough, and the skies feel like their fall is imminent, I turn inward and listen to that whispering voice reminding me, ‘we’ve been here before and we overcame.’” ***
Today, Laetitia stands as a living witness here in our Fargo community of how someone can live through and transcend difficult life experiences. She shows us that even when facing hatred and tragedy, we can find the strength and faith to go on.
Now that doesn’t mean that faith solves all our problems. Or that you can easily avoid grief or heal depression by simply believing hard enough. To me, what it does mean, and what Laetitia’s story illustrates, is that we do not go it alone. That together we bring healing to one another.
In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus finds Simon Peter's mother-in-law in bed with a fever. When Jesus goes into her room, he takes her by the hand, raises her up, and heals her. In the Gospels, there about 75 stories of healing by Jesus. But this story has a unique detail. In most of the other stories, the healed individuals don’t respond to Jesus. They offer no word of thanks. But in this story, Peter’s mother-in-law responds with a concrete action. After Jesus heals her, she gets out of bed to “serve” him and the disciples.
The Greek word for “serve” in this text is “diakoneo,” which can mean a variety of things, including: to wait on a table, to offer food to guests, and to take care of the sick and poor. In English, our word “deacon” comes from that. And it’s the term we Lutherans use for those called to the “Ministry of Word and Service.” One of our members, Jon Leiseth, serves as a deacon at Concordia College.
In our Gospel story, once Peter’s mother-in-law has finished serving Jesus, an amazing thing happens. At sunset, a crowd gathers outside her house. People bring dozens of sick friends and relatives. And Jesus cares for them all. And even though the Gospel doesn’t mention it, I imagine that Peter’s mother-in-law spends a long night assisting Jesus in healing others.
Years ago, the theologian Henri Nouwen coined the term “wounded healer”—to talk about people like Peter’s mother-in-law and people like Laetitia, and people like you and me—who through our suffering learn how to bring healing to others. ****
For none of us escapes this life without being wounded. Without experiencing illness or the death of loved ones or other losses. Days when we feel weary and faint at heart. And sometimes all we can do, is sit and listen and share our pain with one another. Without offering advice or judgement. Without any promises of a magic cure. Often, that is all the wounded need from us.
Today, beloved, God in Jesus reaches out to you—just as Jesus did to Peter’s mother-in-law—to touch your wounded body and heart. To raise you up with gentle hands—hands that bear the wounds Jesus suffered on the cross.
And with those hands, Jesus makes you a wounded healer, too. With the promise that our God will always bear you up. Amen.
-------------------------------------------------------
* Rabbi Natan Slifkin, “ On Eagle’s Wings”, February 4, 2016, Orthodox Union website, https://www.ou.org/life/inspiration/on-eagles-wings/.
** W.B. Thomas,Yeoman’s England, 1934, pp. 135-6, https://judaism.stackexchange.com/questions/67769/can-rashi-mean-eagles-actually-fly-with-their-young-on-their-wings.
*** Laetitia Mizero Hellerud, Being at Home in the World: Cross-Cultural Leadership Lessons to Guide Your Journey (Hawaii: Aloha Publishing, 2017), 38-39.
**** Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer; 1972; New York, Doubleday, Image Books.
FIRST READING: Isaiah 40:21-31
21Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? 22It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in;23who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing. 24Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the tempest carries them off like stubble. 25To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One. 26Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name; because he is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing.
27Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God” 28Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. 29He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. 30Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; 31but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
GOSPEL LESSON: Mark 1:29-39
29As soon as [Jesus and the disciples] left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. 32That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
35In the morning, while it was still very dark, [Jesus] got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.
This is one of my favorite passages from the Bible. Words I read frequently when I was young. Words that have given me comfort and encouragement during painful times.
We didn’t have eagles around my hometown. The first time I remember seeing one was along the Minnesota River, which flowed through St. Peter, where I went to college. One day, while canoeing with a couple friends, we saw eagles perched in trees on the riverbank. A rare sighting back then. Thankfully, eagles are on the increase today. I’ve even seen what look like eagles flying over the synagogue here in Fargo.
In Hebrew, the word for eagle in this verse is “nesher”—which refers specifically to griffon vultures, which are common in Israel. It’s translated as “eagle” in English, because we Americans have a pretty negative view of vultures. And find much more inspiration in eagles—after all, the bald eagle has been our national symbol since 1782.
However, a Jewish rabbi named Natan Slifkin (who’s known at the “Zoo Rabbi” because of his articles about animals) once wrote:
“If referring to a griffon vulture, verses [like this one in Isaiah] show that it is regarded by the Torah very differently from the way… it is perceived in contemporary culture…. The Torah presents [the vulture] as an example of a loving and caring parent. This… relates to the vulture’s… parenting process. Female griffon vultures usually lay one egg, which both parents incubate for an unusually long period of around seven weeks…. The young are slow to develop and do not leave the nest until three or four months of age. The long devotion of the vulture to its young symbolizes God’s deep dedication to the Jewish People.” *
Both vultures and eagles have been observed teaching their young to fly. One bird watcher shared his observation of a pair of golden eagles. He described how the parent birds—after urging and sometimes shoving the youngster out of a tree and into the air—will swoop down underneath and let the young bird rest for a moment on their wings and back. **
Which sounds a lot like what Isaiah says: “Even youths (you could insert “young birds”) will become weary and fall exhausted, but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.”
I can think of times during the past year—as I’m sure you can, too—when I’ve just felt exhausted by everything that was happening. Like the COVID pandemic, which is still with us after nearly a year. Like the political dialogue of hate, which still continues. Like the social isolation, which still keeps us away from our community of faith, close friends and loved ones.
The promise of these words from Isaiah is that during times like these, God is the mother eagle who flies beside us. Who closely watches our every struggle. Who gently swoops under us and bears us up when we can’t fly on our own. Believing that God and our faith community is with us during difficult times can become the thing that hold us up and keeps us going during our life journey.
In her book, Being at Home in the World, Laetitia Mizero Hellerud (whom many of us know) tells the story of her journey as a refugee from her homeland of Burundi in Africa. As a four-time refugee, Laetitia talks about what has helped her be resilient despite the many obstacles and losses she faced. She writes:
“When I think about life, there is one clear conclusion that can be drawn by anyone: life comes in cycles and seasons. I have had good times and bad, unbelievably awesome experiences followed with extremely stressful and, at times, dangerous situations…. Understanding and accepting that there will always be situations that I can’t control is empowering. Leaving God or a higher power in charge of… those situations is liberating. Having faith in humanity, that someone will reach out to help you when you are in need, can give you optimism when you least expect it…. When the seas are rough, and the skies feel like their fall is imminent, I turn inward and listen to that whispering voice reminding me, ‘we’ve been here before and we overcame.’” ***
Today, Laetitia stands as a living witness here in our Fargo community of how someone can live through and transcend difficult life experiences. She shows us that even when facing hatred and tragedy, we can find the strength and faith to go on.
Now that doesn’t mean that faith solves all our problems. Or that you can easily avoid grief or heal depression by simply believing hard enough. To me, what it does mean, and what Laetitia’s story illustrates, is that we do not go it alone. That together we bring healing to one another.
In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus finds Simon Peter's mother-in-law in bed with a fever. When Jesus goes into her room, he takes her by the hand, raises her up, and heals her. In the Gospels, there about 75 stories of healing by Jesus. But this story has a unique detail. In most of the other stories, the healed individuals don’t respond to Jesus. They offer no word of thanks. But in this story, Peter’s mother-in-law responds with a concrete action. After Jesus heals her, she gets out of bed to “serve” him and the disciples.
The Greek word for “serve” in this text is “diakoneo,” which can mean a variety of things, including: to wait on a table, to offer food to guests, and to take care of the sick and poor. In English, our word “deacon” comes from that. And it’s the term we Lutherans use for those called to the “Ministry of Word and Service.” One of our members, Jon Leiseth, serves as a deacon at Concordia College.
In our Gospel story, once Peter’s mother-in-law has finished serving Jesus, an amazing thing happens. At sunset, a crowd gathers outside her house. People bring dozens of sick friends and relatives. And Jesus cares for them all. And even though the Gospel doesn’t mention it, I imagine that Peter’s mother-in-law spends a long night assisting Jesus in healing others.
Years ago, the theologian Henri Nouwen coined the term “wounded healer”—to talk about people like Peter’s mother-in-law and people like Laetitia, and people like you and me—who through our suffering learn how to bring healing to others. ****
For none of us escapes this life without being wounded. Without experiencing illness or the death of loved ones or other losses. Days when we feel weary and faint at heart. And sometimes all we can do, is sit and listen and share our pain with one another. Without offering advice or judgement. Without any promises of a magic cure. Often, that is all the wounded need from us.
Today, beloved, God in Jesus reaches out to you—just as Jesus did to Peter’s mother-in-law—to touch your wounded body and heart. To raise you up with gentle hands—hands that bear the wounds Jesus suffered on the cross.
And with those hands, Jesus makes you a wounded healer, too. With the promise that our God will always bear you up. Amen.
-------------------------------------------------------
* Rabbi Natan Slifkin, “ On Eagle’s Wings”, February 4, 2016, Orthodox Union website, https://www.ou.org/life/inspiration/on-eagles-wings/.
** W.B. Thomas,Yeoman’s England, 1934, pp. 135-6, https://judaism.stackexchange.com/questions/67769/can-rashi-mean-eagles-actually-fly-with-their-young-on-their-wings.
*** Laetitia Mizero Hellerud, Being at Home in the World: Cross-Cultural Leadership Lessons to Guide Your Journey (Hawaii: Aloha Publishing, 2017), 38-39.
**** Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer; 1972; New York, Doubleday, Image Books.
FIRST READING: Isaiah 40:21-31
21Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? 22It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in;23who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing. 24Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the tempest carries them off like stubble. 25To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One. 26Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name; because he is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing.
27Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God” 28Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. 29He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. 30Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; 31but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.
GOSPEL LESSON: Mark 1:29-39
29As soon as [Jesus and the disciples] left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. 32That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
35In the morning, while it was still very dark, [Jesus] got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.
"Metamorphosis"
Based on Mark 2:2-9 (text is available below)
February 14, 2021
Today is Transfiguration Sunday. In the second verse of our Gospel reading, it says that Jesus was “transfigured.” In the original Greek, the verb is “metemorphóthe” (μετεμορφώθη). That’s where we get our English word “metamorphosis,” which means to make a major change in one’s form, character or circumstance. Some of us could use that word for changes that have happened in our lives.
Just for fun, I Googled the words “personal metamorphosis” and got 16,000 results. One was a story called “My Personal Metamorphosis,” written by a woman, whom I will call “Jan.” Jan decided to make a major change in her life. She moved from our country to Chile to volunteer with an organization called VE Global. Here’s what she wrote:
“Curiosity for another part of the world, a love for mountains and a strong need to do something meaningful… brought me to Santiago. I exchanged a cushy and not very demanding job for an environment full of cultural and social challenges—moving 8,000 miles to a continent I have never been to before. I have been working in a residential house for girls, who were placed there because of problems in their families…. I pick them up from school, help with homework, teach a little English,… bring them to doctors, [and] play games….
“Before coming here I would never describe myself as patient. I have always had a tendency to… get frustrated when I don’t succeed. Now, patience helps me with dealing with one of the biggest challenges here—motivating girls…. They often lack interest or lose it after 5 minutes. Such situations used to hold me back from coming up with new ideas and taking initiative. But then I realized that… building a good relationship with girls takes time, and nothing is done immediately when I want it….
“I’m sure that after… volunteering here, I’ll be a different person. Every day,… I face situations that make me see life from another perspective…. I overcome obstacles like my own insecurity, the girls’ changing moods, and their behavior that I sometimes don’t understand. It’s been an amazing and precious experience!” *
Some of us have had similar experiences in our lives. With jobs or people that challenge our perspectives and become life-changing events. Some call it a “mountain top experience.” That’s one kind of metamorphosis. My previous work with Latinos and HIV+ individuals and homeless people did that for me.
When you hear the story of the transfiguration in today’s Gospel, it’s easy to focus on how Jesus’ appearance was miraculously changed. It’s easy to listen only to the voice from heaven proclaiming that Jesus is God’s beloved child. But I think this story is not just about a mountaintop vision. It’s also about how this and other experiences transform the lives of those who follow Jesus.
About how this and other encounters caused the disciples to give up their original plans for their lives. Choosing to follow Jesus changed the way they looked at themselves, their world and their faith. In that experience on the top of a mountain Peter, James and John see Jesus change before their eyes. They see Jesus transformed, but they also experience a personal metamorphosis.
I can understand why Peter is confused and suggests making booths for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. Making booths was part of Peter’s Jewish tradition during Sukkot, also called the Feast of Tabernacles. A holiday that remembers the wandering of Moses and the people of Israel in the wilderness for 40 years. We learned about Sukkot with people from Temple Beth El several months ago.
Here, Peter wants to do something similar. He wants to do something tangible to remember this transient epiphany. And later Christians did exactly that. They built what’s called the Church of the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor—the site traditionally associated with this Gospel story.
Which is not surprising. For it’s a very human act to try to contain the divine. Building an altar freezes a sacred moment in time. Building a sanctuary isolates the holy in one place. Building a church or synagogue clearly defines where you find the people of God. But if we’re not careful, altars and sanctuaries can become the main focus and a hindrance to our vision of what the Kingdom of God really is.
One thing a lot of American Christians learned during this past year is that “Church” is not limited to buildings. Here at St. Mark’s we learned that lesson a long time ago. However, I don’t think any of us ever dreamed that we would not have in-person worship for a year or more when COVID first started.
Yet, as your pastor, I believe our recent history has opened our eyes to new ways of seeing ministry and what Church is all about. That experience has transformed our congregation. We’re doing things like livestream worship that we never dreamed of doing before. And we’re reaching people we never could before.
It’s helped me more clearly see where Jesus is calling us in this world today. For I believe that God’s presence is not limited to Sunday worship. And even though I’m tremendously excited about being back here at Temple Beth El, I know that the real transfiguration and our true metamorphosis happens outside these walls—in our daily lives.
Henri Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic priest and theologian, once talked about how the holy can sometimes cross the threshold of the mundane and enter our human hearts and lives in unexpected ways. He wrote:
“At some moments we experience complete unity within us and around us. This may happen when we stand on a mountaintop and are captivated by the view. It may happen when we witness the birth of a child or the death of a friend. It may happen when we have an intimate conversation or a family meal. It may happen in church during a service or in a quiet room during prayer. But whenever and however it happens, we say to ourselves: ‘This is it—everything fits. All I ever hoped for is here.’” **
Experiences like that are moments of metamorphosis. Moments given to us to hold in our hearts when God seems far away. Moments that give us comfort and courage when life feels tenuous. Moments of grace. Moments we long for.
Especially during weeks like this. When an impeachment trial had a predictable result. When a man with a gun shot five people in a clinic in Buffalo, Minnesota—not far from where I grew up. When our North Dakota House of Representatives approved a bill that would prohibit trans youth from participating in school sports.
On this Transfiguration Sunday, which also happens to be Valentine’s Day, I need a reminder of God’s love and presence in our lives and world. I need a reminder that there are people and congregations like St. Mark’s in our community and state and nation who truly care. People of faith who are committed to following Jesus with tangible acts of justice. People of faith who are less concerned about maintaining a sanctuary or number of members, and more about creating a welcoming community.
People of faith who believe that Jesus is transfigured once again when people like us seek to be transformed with a personal metamorphosis. A metamorphosis that becomes a sacrament—what we Lutherans call “an outward sign of an inward grace.” Normally we use that language when talking about baptism, the sacrament where each of us (like Jesus) became a beloved child of God. Or Holy Communion, which we share every Sunday.
But in Jesus, each of you is a sacrament, too. A living sacrament who reveals God to the people in your lives. From you, God’s love shines out each day. To bring hope and healing to our broken world. A holy metamorphosis. Amen.
----------------------------------------
* http://www.ve-global.org/my-personal-metamorphosis/
** Henri Nouwen; https://henrinouwen.org/meditation/the-mountaintop-experience/
GOSPEL LESSON: Mark 2:2-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them anymore, but only Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
Just for fun, I Googled the words “personal metamorphosis” and got 16,000 results. One was a story called “My Personal Metamorphosis,” written by a woman, whom I will call “Jan.” Jan decided to make a major change in her life. She moved from our country to Chile to volunteer with an organization called VE Global. Here’s what she wrote:
“Curiosity for another part of the world, a love for mountains and a strong need to do something meaningful… brought me to Santiago. I exchanged a cushy and not very demanding job for an environment full of cultural and social challenges—moving 8,000 miles to a continent I have never been to before. I have been working in a residential house for girls, who were placed there because of problems in their families…. I pick them up from school, help with homework, teach a little English,… bring them to doctors, [and] play games….
“Before coming here I would never describe myself as patient. I have always had a tendency to… get frustrated when I don’t succeed. Now, patience helps me with dealing with one of the biggest challenges here—motivating girls…. They often lack interest or lose it after 5 minutes. Such situations used to hold me back from coming up with new ideas and taking initiative. But then I realized that… building a good relationship with girls takes time, and nothing is done immediately when I want it….
“I’m sure that after… volunteering here, I’ll be a different person. Every day,… I face situations that make me see life from another perspective…. I overcome obstacles like my own insecurity, the girls’ changing moods, and their behavior that I sometimes don’t understand. It’s been an amazing and precious experience!” *
Some of us have had similar experiences in our lives. With jobs or people that challenge our perspectives and become life-changing events. Some call it a “mountain top experience.” That’s one kind of metamorphosis. My previous work with Latinos and HIV+ individuals and homeless people did that for me.
When you hear the story of the transfiguration in today’s Gospel, it’s easy to focus on how Jesus’ appearance was miraculously changed. It’s easy to listen only to the voice from heaven proclaiming that Jesus is God’s beloved child. But I think this story is not just about a mountaintop vision. It’s also about how this and other experiences transform the lives of those who follow Jesus.
About how this and other encounters caused the disciples to give up their original plans for their lives. Choosing to follow Jesus changed the way they looked at themselves, their world and their faith. In that experience on the top of a mountain Peter, James and John see Jesus change before their eyes. They see Jesus transformed, but they also experience a personal metamorphosis.
I can understand why Peter is confused and suggests making booths for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. Making booths was part of Peter’s Jewish tradition during Sukkot, also called the Feast of Tabernacles. A holiday that remembers the wandering of Moses and the people of Israel in the wilderness for 40 years. We learned about Sukkot with people from Temple Beth El several months ago.
Here, Peter wants to do something similar. He wants to do something tangible to remember this transient epiphany. And later Christians did exactly that. They built what’s called the Church of the Transfiguration on Mount Tabor—the site traditionally associated with this Gospel story.
Which is not surprising. For it’s a very human act to try to contain the divine. Building an altar freezes a sacred moment in time. Building a sanctuary isolates the holy in one place. Building a church or synagogue clearly defines where you find the people of God. But if we’re not careful, altars and sanctuaries can become the main focus and a hindrance to our vision of what the Kingdom of God really is.
One thing a lot of American Christians learned during this past year is that “Church” is not limited to buildings. Here at St. Mark’s we learned that lesson a long time ago. However, I don’t think any of us ever dreamed that we would not have in-person worship for a year or more when COVID first started.
Yet, as your pastor, I believe our recent history has opened our eyes to new ways of seeing ministry and what Church is all about. That experience has transformed our congregation. We’re doing things like livestream worship that we never dreamed of doing before. And we’re reaching people we never could before.
It’s helped me more clearly see where Jesus is calling us in this world today. For I believe that God’s presence is not limited to Sunday worship. And even though I’m tremendously excited about being back here at Temple Beth El, I know that the real transfiguration and our true metamorphosis happens outside these walls—in our daily lives.
Henri Nouwen, a Dutch Catholic priest and theologian, once talked about how the holy can sometimes cross the threshold of the mundane and enter our human hearts and lives in unexpected ways. He wrote:
“At some moments we experience complete unity within us and around us. This may happen when we stand on a mountaintop and are captivated by the view. It may happen when we witness the birth of a child or the death of a friend. It may happen when we have an intimate conversation or a family meal. It may happen in church during a service or in a quiet room during prayer. But whenever and however it happens, we say to ourselves: ‘This is it—everything fits. All I ever hoped for is here.’” **
Experiences like that are moments of metamorphosis. Moments given to us to hold in our hearts when God seems far away. Moments that give us comfort and courage when life feels tenuous. Moments of grace. Moments we long for.
Especially during weeks like this. When an impeachment trial had a predictable result. When a man with a gun shot five people in a clinic in Buffalo, Minnesota—not far from where I grew up. When our North Dakota House of Representatives approved a bill that would prohibit trans youth from participating in school sports.
On this Transfiguration Sunday, which also happens to be Valentine’s Day, I need a reminder of God’s love and presence in our lives and world. I need a reminder that there are people and congregations like St. Mark’s in our community and state and nation who truly care. People of faith who are committed to following Jesus with tangible acts of justice. People of faith who are less concerned about maintaining a sanctuary or number of members, and more about creating a welcoming community.
People of faith who believe that Jesus is transfigured once again when people like us seek to be transformed with a personal metamorphosis. A metamorphosis that becomes a sacrament—what we Lutherans call “an outward sign of an inward grace.” Normally we use that language when talking about baptism, the sacrament where each of us (like Jesus) became a beloved child of God. Or Holy Communion, which we share every Sunday.
But in Jesus, each of you is a sacrament, too. A living sacrament who reveals God to the people in your lives. From you, God’s love shines out each day. To bring hope and healing to our broken world. A holy metamorphosis. Amen.
----------------------------------------
* http://www.ve-global.org/my-personal-metamorphosis/
** Henri Nouwen; https://henrinouwen.org/meditation/the-mountaintop-experience/
GOSPEL LESSON: Mark 2:2-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them anymore, but only Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
"The Rainbow Promise"
Based on Genesis 9:8-17 (text is available below)
February 21, 2021
God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
About a hundred years ago, Thorton Wilder wrote a novel called The Bridge of San Luis Rey. His book begins with this sentence: "On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below." A young monk witnesses the event and is deeply troubled by it. Brother Juniper starts questioning the meaning behind the tragedy. Was it simply an accident, or divine intervention that caused five people to die that day?
So Brother Juniper sets out to learn more about each person. He talks with people who knew them. After his investigation, he concludes that each individual had recently resolved a difficult situation in their lives. And that each seemed ready to move on to a new reality. So the friar came to the conclusion that this was the appropriate time for each one to die. And for that reason, God must have caused it to happen.
There are a lot of Christians who seek to explain and rationalize bad things that happen in our world. Arguing that if God is all-powerful, then everything has to be controlled by God. Some use the story of Noah’s ark in that way. The story begins in sixth chapter of Genesis with this explanation:
“Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight…. And God said to Noah, ‘I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; now I am going to destroy them along with the earth.’” (Genesis 6:11-13)
The next three chapters tell the story many of us heard in Sunday school. God instructs Noah to build an ark. Noah tries to warn other people, but they laugh at his prophecies of doom. Eventually, Noah loads the ark with his family and animals of every kind. Then it rains for 40 days and 40 nights. At the end of the story, God makes a covenant to never again destroy the world with a flood. A covenant with a visible sign.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
If we are not careful, it’s easy to turn the rainbow into a happy ending for any tragic story. It’s easy to use this passage as a simple explanation for personal tragedies, natural disasters and even worldwide pandemics like COVID-19. Some people of faith find comfort is saying that everything that happens is God’s will. That there’s a divine purpose behind every loss.
This past Tuesday morning, I was in the middle of a Zoom meeting at home, when suddenly the light on my desk went out. Then my laptop froze. And the house became completely silent. I realized that the power had gone out. So I called the City of Moorhead and found out there were rolling blackouts happening in our area. Thankfully, the electricity came back after about 45 minutes. A temporary annoyance. Later I learned the problem was much bigger down South—with four million affected. With some tragic results.
Early that afternoon in Conroe, Texas, Maria Elisa Pineda went to wake her 11-year-old son in his bedroom in their unheated mobile home. Even though Cristian was still in bed, Maria wasn’t worried. Her son often slept in. But when she nudged him, Cristian didn’t respond. Cristian was later pronounced dead. Authorities are investigating whether the boy died of hypothermia. “He was okay,” Maria said. “He had dinner, he played and he went to bed.” A mother’s worst nightmare.
When faced with a tragedy like that, I believe it’s not helpful and even harmful to tell a parent something like: “God took your child because he was needed in heaven.” Some of you probably have had people with good intentions tell you after the death of a loved one that “they are in a better place,” or other words of comfort based on the belief that your loss must be God’s will. But in times like that, those who mourn don’t need to hear empty promises. They need to know that we are with them as they walk the path of grief.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
In his book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Rabbi Harold Kushner writes: “Sometimes in our reluctance to admit that there is unfairness in the world, we try to persuade ourselves... that evil is not real…, but is only a condition of not enough goodness, even as ‘cold’ means not enough heat, or darkness is… the absence of light. We may thus ‘prove’ that there really is no such thing as darkness or cold. But people do stumble [in the dark] and hurt themselves, and people do die because of exposure to cold. Their deaths and injuries are no less real because of our verbal cleverness.” *
I think we Christians come up with simple explanations because we want so much to believe that this world is just. That good people get treated fairly. That bad people get punished. For those of us who are white, it’s easy to see things that way.
People of color and indigenous people could tell us that’s not how it works in their world. For them, this Genesis story about God destroying the entire human race sounds a lot like their own people’s histories of genocide. Where Christians justified the enslavement and killing of their ancestors with theology based on Biblical passages like this one. Arguing that policies like “manifest destiny” were the will of God. And justifying government treaties and legal agreements assuring Indigenous peoples and African Americans they would be taken care of. That our government would keep its promises.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
In our reading from Genesis, the Hebrew word “kol” is used 10 times. It’s translated as “all” and “every.” God says that when the rainbow appears, “I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh.” The fact that God makes a covenant with all humanity—with every tribe and race, with people of every faith, and with every living creature is remarkable—an incredible promise. A promise beyond any human agreement.
I believe the story of Noah and the Ark is really about God’s rainbow promise. God’s promise to never stop loving us. No matter what disaster or pandemic we face. No matter what we humans do to one another. As long as rainbows appear after a summer shower, so God’s grace continues to shine upon us. To bring healing and hope to this broken world. To assure us that even when we are most afraid, even when we face losses and death and tragedy, God still walks beside us and holds us close.
Rabbi Kushner (whom I referred to earlier) once wrote a poem about God’s rainbow promise. It’s called “A Prayer for the World.” I’d like to close with that prayer:
“Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges,
the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations.
Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect.
Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows.
Let the warmth of the sun heal us wherever we are broken.
Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly.
So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin color.
Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness.
So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbors.
And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all people as our neighbors.
Let the earth, nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty.
And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven. Amen.” **
--------------------------------------------------
* Kushner, Harold S; When Bad Things Happen to Good People (New York: Avon Books, 1981), 27-28.
** Kushner, Harold S; https://www.altagolden.com/prayer-for-the-world/
First Reading: Genesis 9:8-17 God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” God said, “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.”
About a hundred years ago, Thorton Wilder wrote a novel called The Bridge of San Luis Rey. His book begins with this sentence: "On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below." A young monk witnesses the event and is deeply troubled by it. Brother Juniper starts questioning the meaning behind the tragedy. Was it simply an accident, or divine intervention that caused five people to die that day?
So Brother Juniper sets out to learn more about each person. He talks with people who knew them. After his investigation, he concludes that each individual had recently resolved a difficult situation in their lives. And that each seemed ready to move on to a new reality. So the friar came to the conclusion that this was the appropriate time for each one to die. And for that reason, God must have caused it to happen.
There are a lot of Christians who seek to explain and rationalize bad things that happen in our world. Arguing that if God is all-powerful, then everything has to be controlled by God. Some use the story of Noah’s ark in that way. The story begins in sixth chapter of Genesis with this explanation:
“Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight…. And God said to Noah, ‘I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; now I am going to destroy them along with the earth.’” (Genesis 6:11-13)
The next three chapters tell the story many of us heard in Sunday school. God instructs Noah to build an ark. Noah tries to warn other people, but they laugh at his prophecies of doom. Eventually, Noah loads the ark with his family and animals of every kind. Then it rains for 40 days and 40 nights. At the end of the story, God makes a covenant to never again destroy the world with a flood. A covenant with a visible sign.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
If we are not careful, it’s easy to turn the rainbow into a happy ending for any tragic story. It’s easy to use this passage as a simple explanation for personal tragedies, natural disasters and even worldwide pandemics like COVID-19. Some people of faith find comfort is saying that everything that happens is God’s will. That there’s a divine purpose behind every loss.
This past Tuesday morning, I was in the middle of a Zoom meeting at home, when suddenly the light on my desk went out. Then my laptop froze. And the house became completely silent. I realized that the power had gone out. So I called the City of Moorhead and found out there were rolling blackouts happening in our area. Thankfully, the electricity came back after about 45 minutes. A temporary annoyance. Later I learned the problem was much bigger down South—with four million affected. With some tragic results.
Early that afternoon in Conroe, Texas, Maria Elisa Pineda went to wake her 11-year-old son in his bedroom in their unheated mobile home. Even though Cristian was still in bed, Maria wasn’t worried. Her son often slept in. But when she nudged him, Cristian didn’t respond. Cristian was later pronounced dead. Authorities are investigating whether the boy died of hypothermia. “He was okay,” Maria said. “He had dinner, he played and he went to bed.” A mother’s worst nightmare.
When faced with a tragedy like that, I believe it’s not helpful and even harmful to tell a parent something like: “God took your child because he was needed in heaven.” Some of you probably have had people with good intentions tell you after the death of a loved one that “they are in a better place,” or other words of comfort based on the belief that your loss must be God’s will. But in times like that, those who mourn don’t need to hear empty promises. They need to know that we are with them as they walk the path of grief.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
In his book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Rabbi Harold Kushner writes: “Sometimes in our reluctance to admit that there is unfairness in the world, we try to persuade ourselves... that evil is not real…, but is only a condition of not enough goodness, even as ‘cold’ means not enough heat, or darkness is… the absence of light. We may thus ‘prove’ that there really is no such thing as darkness or cold. But people do stumble [in the dark] and hurt themselves, and people do die because of exposure to cold. Their deaths and injuries are no less real because of our verbal cleverness.” *
I think we Christians come up with simple explanations because we want so much to believe that this world is just. That good people get treated fairly. That bad people get punished. For those of us who are white, it’s easy to see things that way.
People of color and indigenous people could tell us that’s not how it works in their world. For them, this Genesis story about God destroying the entire human race sounds a lot like their own people’s histories of genocide. Where Christians justified the enslavement and killing of their ancestors with theology based on Biblical passages like this one. Arguing that policies like “manifest destiny” were the will of God. And justifying government treaties and legal agreements assuring Indigenous peoples and African Americans they would be taken care of. That our government would keep its promises.
And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant… between me and you and every living creature…. My rainbow in the clouds.”
In our reading from Genesis, the Hebrew word “kol” is used 10 times. It’s translated as “all” and “every.” God says that when the rainbow appears, “I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh.” The fact that God makes a covenant with all humanity—with every tribe and race, with people of every faith, and with every living creature is remarkable—an incredible promise. A promise beyond any human agreement.
I believe the story of Noah and the Ark is really about God’s rainbow promise. God’s promise to never stop loving us. No matter what disaster or pandemic we face. No matter what we humans do to one another. As long as rainbows appear after a summer shower, so God’s grace continues to shine upon us. To bring healing and hope to this broken world. To assure us that even when we are most afraid, even when we face losses and death and tragedy, God still walks beside us and holds us close.
Rabbi Kushner (whom I referred to earlier) once wrote a poem about God’s rainbow promise. It’s called “A Prayer for the World.” I’d like to close with that prayer:
“Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges,
the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations.
Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect.
Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows.
Let the warmth of the sun heal us wherever we are broken.
Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly.
So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin color.
Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness.
So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbors.
And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all people as our neighbors.
Let the earth, nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty.
And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven. Amen.” **
--------------------------------------------------
* Kushner, Harold S; When Bad Things Happen to Good People (New York: Avon Books, 1981), 27-28.
** Kushner, Harold S; https://www.altagolden.com/prayer-for-the-world/
First Reading: Genesis 9:8-17 God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” God said, “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.”
"A Promise Made. A Promise Kept"
Based on Genesis 17:1-7,15-16 (text is available below)
February 28, 2021
My grandfather Andrew Larson was 66 years old when my father was born. It’s weird to think that Grandpa Andrew was older than me at the time of my dad’s birth. And my father George Larson was 45 when I was born. If you add the two ages together, it’s a combined total of 111 years! In most families, you could easily fit four generations into that timeline.
I never knew Grandpa Andrew. He died more than two decades before I was born. I know he was musical. I have a clarinet he used to play. I’m sure I get my musical talents from him. Grandpa Andrew was a Norwegian who lived in Sweden. And emigrated to Minnesota in 1882. Like any immigrant, Andrew faced many changes. Leaving his homeland and family. Learning a new language. Starting up a farm and building a house. Getting married and having children.
Life events that changed him forever. Life events that affected his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. Andrew came here believing a promise that many immigrants believe. That he would find a better life, new opportunities and a safe home for his descendants. A promise made. A promise kept. It’s also weird to think that if Grandpa Andrew had not believed that promise, I would not be here today.
I’m not sure if faith in God had anything to do with his believing that promise. Maybe he was just a guy who liked taking risks. Maybe he was bored with his life and looking for adventure. Or maybe, like many immigrants, he had no other choice.
In our first reading from Genesis, Abram and Sarai believe a similar promise. As part of an invitation to leave the familiar and undertake a new adventure in their life, God makes an unbelievable promise. A promise to an old childless couple. God promises Sarai will become pregnant. God promises they will become parents of a nation.
But what we don’t get out of today’s reading is that it took years for that promise to become reality. I’m sure Abram and Sarai had many doubts. In Genesis Chapter 12, God tells them to leave their homeland. Abram was 75 years old when they emigrated to Canaan. Their story goes on for several chapters.
In Chapter 15, Abram wonders whether one of his servants could inherit the promise. A legal option back then. So God restates the promise even more emphatically: “Your descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky.” The kind of promise you might hear from a shrewd investor—looking for gullible believers to join his pyramid scheme.
In chapter 16, Abram and Sarai become unhappy with God’s timing. You can almost hear them say, “Lord, we’re not getting any younger!” Doubting the promise, they take matters into their own hands. Sarai comes up with a novel idea—that husband be intimate with her servant Hagar. What could go wrong with a plan like that? Like a marriage counselor, God zooms in for another meeting with the couple. And making sure they are listening, God repeats the promise: “You will have numerous descendants!”
Which brings us to today’s passage from Chapter 17. Where it all sounds like a done deal. A promise made. A promise kept. But, not really. Not yet. Like a good mystery novel, we have to wait four more chapters until Sarai finally becomes pregnant, when Abram is 99 years old.
But, this time something is different. Abram and Sarai are so transformed by their latest conversation with this promise-making God, that something changes in the core of their being.
How do we know? Because they change their names. In the Bible, a name represents your identity. When a name changes, it symbolizes a transformation in your destiny and in your calling.
Some of you might remember that when I was a young man in seminary, I changed my name. When I was born, my parents named me “Joey.” It’s the name on my birth certificate. The name I used throughout my childhood and young adult years. But in seminary, that name no longer felt right. Maybe it was because something was changing in my psyche. Maybe it was because I was coming to terms with my secret gay identity. Maybe it was because I wanted more connections to my ancestors. After all, my middle name is Andrew, after my grandfather. My great-grandfather was Joseph Larson.
Somehow, it felt right to take his name. And “Joseph” is a name filled with promises. Like Joseph, the boy with the coat of many colors, who rescued his family from starvation in a foreign country. Like Joseph the father of Jesus, who saved his wife and son when they fled as refugees to Egypt.
There’s something about changing your name that has a ripple effect on your self-perception and on the way other people see and treat you. Trans individuals know what that’s like. When they choose a new name, it becomes a life-giving promise of the person God has made them to be. Their former name becomes their “deadname.” And “deadnaming” is a term to describe how others continue using that old name—sometimes out of habit, sometimes as a way to intentionally deny their new identity.
Similarly in the Bible, a name change represents a life-changing encounter with the divine. Jacob wrestles with God, and his name becomes Israel. Simon leaves his former life and family to follow Jesus, who renames him Peter. Saul encounters the Risen Christ on the road to Damascus, and changes his name to Paul. The name Abram translated as ‘exalted father,’ but Abraham means “father of a multitude.” Sarai meant “princess,” but Sarah is the princess of many. Names that reflect a promise made. A promise kept.
But God can’t make most promises happen without the commitment and assistance of faithful people. For God promised through this elderly immigrant couple to create a people who would become a blessing to millions of their Jewish descendants and the world.
And God kept promising that it would happen even after years of waiting and worry and anguish. A God who was trusted by those before us. A God who still keeps promises with us today. A God who walks with us throughout our life journey.
This week, we held our second monthly grief and loss group. During which each person shared reflections about how grief has affected them. Linda Hamann, our facilitator, asked each of us to take time to feel where in our body the grief seemed to be centered. And to think about how when we become more aware of those feelings like sadness and anger, we gain strength in being able to hold that pain and make it more bearable. And that even when it seems like it will never get better, there’s a promise in the fact that some of us have gone through this before.
As Christians, we believe that God sent Jesus to us—to live and suffer and die as one of us. To feel the kind of pain we experience. With the promise that God understands our suffering and walks beside us. And just as God made incredible promises with Abraham and Sarah, so throughout his ministry, Jesus also made remarkable promises with us. Promises that touch the core of our being.
Listen now to the promises Jesus has made with each of us by name—with you and me:
These promises made by God in Christ still touch our hearts and change our lives. Promises that still speak to us in a world where so much seems uncertain. And yet, God’s covenant with us still holds true.
Just like God’s promises to Abraham and Sarah. So, God also promises to walk with us each day. As during our Lenten journey, we follow in the steps of Jesus to the cross. Amen.
--------------------------------------
First Reading: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16 When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.” Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you….” God said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.”
Gospel: Mark 8:34-37
[Jesus] called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”
I never knew Grandpa Andrew. He died more than two decades before I was born. I know he was musical. I have a clarinet he used to play. I’m sure I get my musical talents from him. Grandpa Andrew was a Norwegian who lived in Sweden. And emigrated to Minnesota in 1882. Like any immigrant, Andrew faced many changes. Leaving his homeland and family. Learning a new language. Starting up a farm and building a house. Getting married and having children.
Life events that changed him forever. Life events that affected his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. Andrew came here believing a promise that many immigrants believe. That he would find a better life, new opportunities and a safe home for his descendants. A promise made. A promise kept. It’s also weird to think that if Grandpa Andrew had not believed that promise, I would not be here today.
I’m not sure if faith in God had anything to do with his believing that promise. Maybe he was just a guy who liked taking risks. Maybe he was bored with his life and looking for adventure. Or maybe, like many immigrants, he had no other choice.
In our first reading from Genesis, Abram and Sarai believe a similar promise. As part of an invitation to leave the familiar and undertake a new adventure in their life, God makes an unbelievable promise. A promise to an old childless couple. God promises Sarai will become pregnant. God promises they will become parents of a nation.
But what we don’t get out of today’s reading is that it took years for that promise to become reality. I’m sure Abram and Sarai had many doubts. In Genesis Chapter 12, God tells them to leave their homeland. Abram was 75 years old when they emigrated to Canaan. Their story goes on for several chapters.
In Chapter 15, Abram wonders whether one of his servants could inherit the promise. A legal option back then. So God restates the promise even more emphatically: “Your descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky.” The kind of promise you might hear from a shrewd investor—looking for gullible believers to join his pyramid scheme.
In chapter 16, Abram and Sarai become unhappy with God’s timing. You can almost hear them say, “Lord, we’re not getting any younger!” Doubting the promise, they take matters into their own hands. Sarai comes up with a novel idea—that husband be intimate with her servant Hagar. What could go wrong with a plan like that? Like a marriage counselor, God zooms in for another meeting with the couple. And making sure they are listening, God repeats the promise: “You will have numerous descendants!”
Which brings us to today’s passage from Chapter 17. Where it all sounds like a done deal. A promise made. A promise kept. But, not really. Not yet. Like a good mystery novel, we have to wait four more chapters until Sarai finally becomes pregnant, when Abram is 99 years old.
But, this time something is different. Abram and Sarai are so transformed by their latest conversation with this promise-making God, that something changes in the core of their being.
How do we know? Because they change their names. In the Bible, a name represents your identity. When a name changes, it symbolizes a transformation in your destiny and in your calling.
Some of you might remember that when I was a young man in seminary, I changed my name. When I was born, my parents named me “Joey.” It’s the name on my birth certificate. The name I used throughout my childhood and young adult years. But in seminary, that name no longer felt right. Maybe it was because something was changing in my psyche. Maybe it was because I was coming to terms with my secret gay identity. Maybe it was because I wanted more connections to my ancestors. After all, my middle name is Andrew, after my grandfather. My great-grandfather was Joseph Larson.
Somehow, it felt right to take his name. And “Joseph” is a name filled with promises. Like Joseph, the boy with the coat of many colors, who rescued his family from starvation in a foreign country. Like Joseph the father of Jesus, who saved his wife and son when they fled as refugees to Egypt.
There’s something about changing your name that has a ripple effect on your self-perception and on the way other people see and treat you. Trans individuals know what that’s like. When they choose a new name, it becomes a life-giving promise of the person God has made them to be. Their former name becomes their “deadname.” And “deadnaming” is a term to describe how others continue using that old name—sometimes out of habit, sometimes as a way to intentionally deny their new identity.
Similarly in the Bible, a name change represents a life-changing encounter with the divine. Jacob wrestles with God, and his name becomes Israel. Simon leaves his former life and family to follow Jesus, who renames him Peter. Saul encounters the Risen Christ on the road to Damascus, and changes his name to Paul. The name Abram translated as ‘exalted father,’ but Abraham means “father of a multitude.” Sarai meant “princess,” but Sarah is the princess of many. Names that reflect a promise made. A promise kept.
But God can’t make most promises happen without the commitment and assistance of faithful people. For God promised through this elderly immigrant couple to create a people who would become a blessing to millions of their Jewish descendants and the world.
And God kept promising that it would happen even after years of waiting and worry and anguish. A God who was trusted by those before us. A God who still keeps promises with us today. A God who walks with us throughout our life journey.
This week, we held our second monthly grief and loss group. During which each person shared reflections about how grief has affected them. Linda Hamann, our facilitator, asked each of us to take time to feel where in our body the grief seemed to be centered. And to think about how when we become more aware of those feelings like sadness and anger, we gain strength in being able to hold that pain and make it more bearable. And that even when it seems like it will never get better, there’s a promise in the fact that some of us have gone through this before.
As Christians, we believe that God sent Jesus to us—to live and suffer and die as one of us. To feel the kind of pain we experience. With the promise that God understands our suffering and walks beside us. And just as God made incredible promises with Abraham and Sarah, so throughout his ministry, Jesus also made remarkable promises with us. Promises that touch the core of our being.
Listen now to the promises Jesus has made with each of us by name—with you and me:
- Jesus said: “Come to me, all who are weary and I will give you rest.” A promise made. A promise kept.
- Jesus said: “Take up your cross and follow me. For whoever loses their life for my sake will save it.” A promise made. A promise kept.
- Jesus said: “The son of man must undergo great suffering and be killed, and on the third day rise again.” A promise made. A promise kept.
- Jesus said: “This is my body, given for you.” A promise made. A promise kept.
- Jesus said: “Don’t let your hearts be troubled, and don’t be afraid. My peace I give to you.” A promise made. A promise kept.
These promises made by God in Christ still touch our hearts and change our lives. Promises that still speak to us in a world where so much seems uncertain. And yet, God’s covenant with us still holds true.
Just like God’s promises to Abraham and Sarah. So, God also promises to walk with us each day. As during our Lenten journey, we follow in the steps of Jesus to the cross. Amen.
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First Reading: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16 When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.” Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you….” God said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.”
Gospel: Mark 8:34-37
[Jesus] called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”