Message for Lent 4 on John 3:14-21, Romans 12:9,17-21 given on March 10, 2024 at St. Luke's Lutheran Church in Richardson, Texas
Maybe you’re like me and some days you struggle with how to continually be a person of love and light in what feels an increasingly divisive, difficult and dare I say, evil world.
I’m not just talking about the big stuff—you know wars and rumors of wars, although these issues do weigh on all of us. We have eight months to go in this election year and we cannot seem to have a real exchange of ideas without accusations, fearmongering, and us-versus-them on all sides.
It is a hard world in so many arenas, especially raising children and grandchildren—where we struggle against many evils.
• The fentanyl crisis with so many overdoses is really scary
• Getting health insurance and accessing care is becoming more difficult—I know several folks without insurance
• “Affordable housing” has become an oxymoron—there isn’t any for low income and homeless people we have discovered working with some of our members
• On-line harassment and bullying continue, and scammers are more creative than ever
• Intolerance and discrimination are still struggles, especially around gender and sexuality
It’s not just that I find these issues challenging, but sometimes I do not like who I become –
• I do not like how angry I get when I see inaction on these issues;
• How self-righteous I can be when I disagree on political solutions or the lack thereof.
• I am surprised at how judgmental I can be of others who see things differently than I do.
• I realize the evil is not just out there—it’s in here, too, and that’s the really hard part about it.
I want to say—"shine your light over there Jesus and do not look too closely at my mind and heart today—maybe check back in again tomorrow!"
Perhaps you find this to be true about yourself, wondering how to continually be a person of love and light when we see evil and endless issues everywhere.
Maybe you too, come face to face with yourself and find
• it’s hard not to judge people based on their politics,
• Or you’ve discovered how easy it is to become angry when inaction and injustice seem to go unchecked,
• Or self-righteous when others are not acting or thinking the way you think they should.
• Or maybe you just to become too discouraged and withdraw
What are those moments or issues for you when you want to say, “shine your light over there, Jesus and do not look too closely at my mind and heart today—maybe check back in again tomorrow!”
But in our Gospel reading from John, Jesus calls us to come into the light because we are of God and have been saved by Jesus Christ. God calls us to be light-bearers as ones saved by his Son.
It starts with the most famous passage of Scripture:
For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
I love the King James translation—which instead of “everyone” says, “whosoever!”
For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that “whosoever!” believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
That means that all the whosoevers!—
- The whosoevers who were doing evil yesterday can believe in Jesus today!
The whosoevers who are brown, black, white—any color, any race, tribe—can be saved by Jesus!
The whosoevers who are gay, straight and somewhere in between can believe in Jesus!
The whosoevers who were bullies and scammers yesterday can start a new life in Christ today!
The whosovers include you and me!
Evil is never more powerful than the saving power of Jesus Christ and his eternal light –which covers the whole world and dwells inside of us. We always focus on John 3:16 and then we forget John 3:17—
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.
God sent Jesus to save not to condemn. It makes you wonder why so many people’s experience of Christians is condemnation and judgment. But the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better—and that’s what we are about at St. Luke’s!
We do not need to do any judging—the light exposes darkness—the truth exposes evil—that’s what the text says right here.
And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.
Of course, we are forgiven for when we get caught up in judging others, and then Jesus Christ fills us with the power of his love to be light-bearers in the world.
But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.
Our job is to do the deeds of God.
Once evil is exposed by the light of Christ, by truth—we as light-bearers work to make sure such things do not continue. It’s why we have progressed toward laws that protect minors from harmful substances and seatbelt laws—we all work for human flourishing and the end of evil. It is why being a welcoming church where God loves everybody matters. The world needs to hear about a loving God.
So the question is, how do we continue to shine light in the face of hardship, challenges or just plain evil? The light has come, but is not yet come to its complete fulfillment in Christ’s return, so how do we shine light in the midst of darkness?
There are many ways—today we’ll talk about 4: I invite you to pick one this week and practice it as a family or with a friend.
1. Rooted in Prayer- Start out your day in prayer no matter how brief. If this is new, you can start out with 5 minutes--pray for 2 ½ minutes and listen for 2 ½. Pick a place, even if it’s in your car before you go into work, or in the bathroom with the door closed. On St. Luke’s YouTube page, I have a morning meditation that lasts about 5 minutes and it includes asking for the light of Christ to fill you. If prayer is hard, that’s one way to start.
When we are rooted in prayer, we are reminded that we have a Godly purpose no matter what our tasks—we are filled with light of Christ and here to share love and hope with others. Who will God put in our path today that needs Christ’s light through me?
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 reminds us:
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
2. Rely on the Power of Jesus- I can’t tell you how many times I have been in situations of conflict or crisis, and I did not know what to do. In the back of my mind I pray, "Please Jesus, help me, what do you want me to do here? How do you want me to help this situation or person? Or, the all important good boundaries-question: Is this mine to do?"
I listen internally for guidance, and observe, and almost always an idea comes to me, or the situation shifts, and something happens to help.
When I pray for an answer I get absolute silence, then I know there is no action to be taken, it’s not mined to do, or it’s just time to wait. When we are Rooted in Prayer (#1)—we can Rely on the power of Jesus because we become accustomed to hearing his urging, direction, and intuition about how to respond to situations of evil or need.
Proverbs 3:5-6, says, Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths.
3. Remember what God has done for you- What would your life be like without the forgiveness of Jesus Christ? Without this community? Without the love of God that has seen through the troubles of the past? When we remember what God has done for us, we are ready to serve God when the moment arises.
When I was in the hospital in Lahore, all of my excellent nurses were Muslim, but on my last day, my nurse was a Christian. She asked me to pray for her since she wanted to have a baby. I said I would.
I was released that afternoon and before we left, Dan and I laid on hands and prayed for Usmah, my nurse. I was so grateful I was better—I knew what God had done for me through all of your prayers! The time to pray it forward is now!
Psalm 103:2-4 says, Bless the LORD, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits—who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases.
4. Reach out in love. Mother Teresa once said, "Not all of us can do great things, but we can all do small things with great love." If big actions or the whole darn thing of life feels overwhelming, focus on small actions where we can let love be genuine.
When my mom died, the two little boys next door came over and drew pictures with sidewalk chalk on my dad’s walkway to cheer him up. It was the most precious thing. Another day they were painting rocks, and he still has 2 ladybug rocks on his front porch.
You do not have to agree with anyone’s ideas or politics to do a small thing with great love. Help your teen or a friend pick up a bag of "grief groceries" for someone who’s family member has died—you know frozen pizza, ravioli and tomato sauce, ice cream, and Oreos—quick dinners and comfort food.
Bridge a gap, start a conversation with a small act of love—mail a card, cut a sick neighbor’s grass, write a note and tell someone you added them to our church prayer list, bake some bars for the Dover Elementary teachers, or take someone a bag of breakfast burritos this Saturday after our free breakfast.
This is what the Apostle Paul is talking about in Romans when he says, overcome evil with good. When there is sad news, remind yourself and your children what Mr. Rogers taught all of us—God always shows up the helpers, big and small. We are some of those helpers.
Matthew 5:14-16, extols us, You are the light of the world... Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
When we all remain
• rooted in prayer,
• relying on the power of Jesus,
• remembering what God has done for us
• and reaching out in love—
we will continually be mindful of the light of Christ that fills us from head to toe! Then we will see much more love, much more good, much more light, much more power and much more Christ in people working toward unity than we do evil because we are joining God in expanding the kingdom around us!
That is a world worth shining for! Amen.
Reflection on my Recent trip to Pakistan and illness; March 1, 2024
I went on my second trip to Pakistan with my husband, Dan for two weeks at the end of January and the beginning of February. This time we brought 4 lay members of the congregation he serves and one member of the congregation I serve. They had a chance to see the profound Christian faith of people whose faith is precious to them because they are not always free to practice it in a majority Muslim country where Islam in preferred, practiced and enforced by the national government. Christians make up only 2% of the population, but as the 5th most populous country in the world, that still leaves them with about 1.2 million Chrsitian belivers nation-wide.
But they are isolated. No one visits Pakistan because of it's reputation for violence (mostly extremists near the Afghan border who prefer a more strict and conservative enforcement of their version of Islam). To have Christians visitors from another country come and preach, visit, and pray with them, means the world to these Pakistani believers. Everywhere we went, we were treated like royality and loved like family. It is both startling and so affirming and connecting to be with believers so fervent in their faith and overjoyed to be connecting with others who share their hope in Jesus Christ.
The night before we were supposed to leave, I got very sick from apparent food poisoning from something I ate at another church event that afternoon (we think it was the potato salad). After 36 hours of being sick, our host, a pastor insisted I go to the hospital. By the time I got to the ER, my blood pressure was 80/40 and I learned later that my kidney function had dropped and my creatnin levels were high. I was admitted for 2 days to bring up my fluids, give me antibiotics, and get me out of the danger zone.
But as Pakistanis live every single day as an often persecuted minority, spiritual transformations almost never come from success and strength. As Fr. Richard likes to say, "the way down is the way up." It is when we fail, when we are in crisis, completely out of control, or flat on our back in a foreign hospital, at the mercy of others for everything, that life's gifts and their spiritual depth come in to sharp relief.
What do we behold from the hospital bed, the persecuted minority, the graveside, the cavernous ache of our heart, the bottom of the cross, or the closed tomb of holy Saturday? After my recent ordeal, I see with fresh eyes. Now I see infinite love from a God who manages to find us wherever life has swallowed us, carrying us through friends and strangers alike; I feel the depth of human love that bespeaks holiness across time and space that I dare not take for granted (especially in my children); I witness a Chrsitian community in Pakistan and in my own congregation so full of gifts and spirits coming alive it takes my breath away, and brings me to my knees in gratitude; I hear a new internal conversation between my spirit, which is always saying, yes, and my body which is sometimes saying, no or go slow, and I sense the only way to work this out is by living it, with the incarnate Jesus and other believers as my companions.
The way down is the way up, and the way up is the way down. Maybe that's why we practice walking down with Jesus during Lent. So when hardship happens we know God is working up to spiritual renewal and resurrection for those with spiritual eyes to see. May we all see more clearly this Lent. May we be willing to walk with those who are persecuted for just believing, and learn to not take for granted the pure gift that expressing our faith affords us.
Message for Christmas Eve on Luke 2:1-20 at St. Luke's Lutheran Church in Richardson, Texas
Sometimes I try to imagine what Mary was thinking about on that trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem. She was losing whoever stood by her in this unplanned pregnancy. She had to know that she would not make it back to Nazareth to deliver this baby—so her mind must have been full of questions. Where will she deliver? Who will help her? Will Jospeh’s distant relatives welcome her?—These are all anxieties around the question: How will my needs be met?
Mary, the Mother of our Lord faces the same question we all do, no matter our circumstances, gender, age, or stage in life, because life and it’s challenges are always changing around us. How will my needs be met?—
- How will my needs be met as I age?
- How will my needs be met with no health insurance?
- How will my needs be met as I live with so much grief
- or with inflation of whatever anxieties raise questions in your own mind.
We all know how Mary’s needs were met—not ideal circumstances, by any means, but they did have a roof over their head, and she had help. Joseph’s relatives did take them in, but traveling slowly, they were the last ones to arrive. The “inn,” which is not a motel as we imagine it, but is really the “guest room” of a home—was already full, as was the rest of the house. The only free space was at the front end of the home, off the living platform, where the animals stayed at night lending their warmth to the whole household.
But there is another clue in the story that lets us know that not only Mary’s needs will be met in the future, but all our needs, too. We have heard it perhaps a hundred times, but maybe never paused to ponder in our hearts the true meaning it conveys.
It’s the word, “manger”—did you notice that Luke repeats the word 3 times? A careful writer usually picks another word to avoid repetition. After using the word, "manger” the first time, one would pick “feeding box” or “trough” the second time, or possibly, “in the hay” the third time, instead of “manger" over and over again.
But not Luke, He makes no effort at literary variety and in fact, does the opposite. He seems quite intent on making sure we read or hear that word, “manger” at least 3 times: Mary laid Jesus, this Messiah, in a manger; the angel tells the shepherds the sign will be a baby lying in a manger; the shepherds go and find Jesus just as the angels said, “lying in a manger.”
Why the repetition of this one word, this feed box for donkeys, sheep and goats?
By using the word, manger repeatedly, Luke foreshadows, in neon, truths about this Messiah he wants us to watch for in Jesus’ mission of nourishment, care and sustenance.
For this Savior will grow up and take 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish and feed 5,000 people. Jesus will become the manger for hungry people, feeding them, providing for their physical needs.
This Messiah, will grow up and touch lepers and restore sight—healing people. Jesus will become the manger of healing nourishment for people seeking for their bodies to made whole.
This Messiah will grow up and welcome sinners, and the outcast and rejected, and provide the soul sustenance of community, forgiveness, and acceptance –the bread of new life. Jesus will become the manger of shared community where all are welcome.
And this Messiah now lying in a manger, will take the bread of the Passover and say, "this is my body given for you," and this Messiah, will take the cup of wine and say, "this is my blood shed for you."
This Messiah, lying in a manger, will feed us with his very life—with his body broken and blood outpoured,
• so that we might have forgiveness, and life,
• so that we might have strength and love,
• so that we might have nourishment and peace now and through eternity.
The Messiah and Savior, first held in the feed box for animals, becomes our food—providing us with every source of sustenance and nurture we could ever need or imagine.
Yes, Mary did have her needs met, and so do we. Our Savior Jesus Christ, born among the family of creation, human and animal together, lying in a manger, provides for all our needs—physical, emotional, spiritual, communal, eternal.
So, ask the Lord for what you need this Christmas, this new year. Trust the Messiah in the manger, and the Christ risen and present at this Table to be your eternal source of sustenance, offering you the hope, peace, joy, and love you need for today, tomorrow, and always.
Amen.
Message for Advent 1 on Luke 1:5-20 given on December 3, 2023 at St. Luke's Lutheran Church, Richardson, TX
When Dan and I were first married, we lived in Detroit, Michigan where I had already served as a pastor for a year. The summer before our September wedding, Dan had finished seminary and been interviewed for a placement at an urban church in consultation with the Presbytery (the same as our Synod) who was going to help pay the salary. They thought they had the agreement of the congregation’s board.
We announced at our wedding that Dan finally had a call to a congregation, and we all cheered. We weren’t on the ground for 12 hours after our honeymoon, before the Presbytery called Dan into their office and said, “oops, you don’t really have a job." It was an ethnic-specific ministry and they wanted a pastor from their culture. We completely understood that, but felt whip-sawed that the judicatory leadership did not do their homework before promising him a job, complete with a signed salary package.
This was a rough way to start a marriage. Dan was a 6th generation pastor with both the weight of and expectation for the church to show up for him. No matter how hard I worked, my $17,000 salary was not going to pay insurance for his car or for more food.
After two weeks of lying on the couch watching Leave It To Beaver reruns, Dan got a job at the fanciest restaurant nearby—but because he didn’t have waiting experience, he had to start bussing tables. They all treated him like dirt. The future looked bleak and barren; we were not sure from where a sign of hope would come.
Zechariah and Elizabeth had resigned themselves to a bleak and barren future. In their culture, value, and status, especially for women, lay in having children. But Elizabeth had become too old for that dream to come true. They seemed resigned to this reality and settled into a routine of service and faithfulness despite this hopeless truth. They were both faithful and devout, Zechariah was devoted to serving in the Temple, Elizabeth worked at home and helped other women in the community, but there was no hope of a changed future for them.
So, of course, Zechariah is terrified when the Angel Gabriel appears to him in the sanctuary where for that ministry, he served alone, offering incense. Then when the angel announces that Elizabeth will give birth to a son, all Zechariah can think about is how old they are, and how unlikely it all is. If God wanted to do this, why did he wait so long? You can hardly blame him for questioning the Angel, Gabriel. Sure, it happened to Sarah and Abraham hundreds of years earlier, and to Hannah in the early Scriptures—but both of those stories were so long ago. Wouldn’t you ask for some kind of proof?
How will I know that this is so? Where’s the proof that God can do this? I had already lost all hope that my life could be different—that this bleak and barren place in my life could have any hope.
Zechariah has several months to ponder God’s unexpected and surprising ways of bringing him a message of hope, since he is rendered mute until his son, John the Baptist is born. I wonder if this forced silence is not so much a punishment, but an invitation—an invitation to really listen for the on-going messages of hope that God will send as Elizabeth goes through pregnancy. When one adjusts oneself barrenness and hopelessness, it becomes harder to listen, to hear, to notice the unexpected and surprising ways that God shows up for us with messages of hope.
Silence attuned Zechariah to noticing hope, to looking for signs of new life, and to watching his wife transform—releasing expectations of barrenness, and instead paying attention to an expanding belly with kicking feet. Muteness forced him to break the habit of repeating pessimism; it gutted the power of despair because it simply had no air time. All Zechariah could do was notice the repeated flutter of angel wings, the echo of Gabriel’s words, the moments of joy and gladness in the life, the good, the hope, the light, the womb, the expanding truth becoming bigger and more present in his household until at last it made its presence known in the cry of a newborn.
By then hope had taken over barrenness completely—not just in their life, but in their hope for the world. After his son, John, the Baptist, was born, Zechariah was re-born—broken out of silence, he could now himself become a voice of hope—taking up the role of an angel among us—a messenger of good news along with his son of the coming Savior. An angel is a messenger of good news—the one who has been ministered to by an angel, becomes one himself. It took nine months of silence for Zechariah to become an angel among us—and then he sings a prophecy similar to Mary’s, a few verses which proclaim:
‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty saviour[g] for us
in the house of his servant David,
By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon[h] us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
Gabriel, Zechariah’s angel of hope came unexpectedly, and so did Dan’s when he was in this season of despair with no church to serve coming out of seminary. One Sunday Dan decided to visit a small inner-city church. He arrived and the sanctuary door was locked. At first, he thought it was for safety, and he couldn’t believe he was locked out of worship—couldn’t life get any worse! But then it occurred to him, they probably could not afford to heat the building, so he walked down to the fellowship hall, and sure enough, a group of about 25 were starting worship. He snuck in the back and sat in a dark corner.
After the sermon, the Pastor asked if anyone needed prayer, and when Dan tells the story, he says “before my feet could consult with my brain, I was already walking up to the front of the church.” He told the pastor about having a church and then not having a church and didn’t know what God was up to or what he was supposed to do with his life when no other churches were open.
The pastor asked all the elders to come forward and lay hands on their brother. And all these beautiful souls got up and surrounded Dan and laid hands on him. Dan says, they did not have many teeth among them, but they had more faith than anyone he had ever met. They prayed him up from here to Calvary to heaven and back again. It was like being touched by a forcefield of angels.
Everything changed for him after that. Barrenness turned into hope, bleakness turned into gladness, despair turned into possibility, doubt turned into confidence. Like Zechariah, Dan began to look for opportunities and signs of life. Pessimism was on “mute.”
About 3 weeks later a suburban church needed an Interim Pastor; Dan put in his resume and was called in for an interview. Dan continued to look 16 until he was about 35, so when he arrived for the interview the chair of the committee asked if he was looking for the Agoraphobics in Motion meeting.
But the good news is, because he had been visited by angels among us, he had become a messenger of hope. So he got the job and was finally ordained. And what a party we had! He did a second Interim in the area and helped facilitate a merger between two congregations. All this experience uniquely qualified him for his next call in Kansas City, Missouri.
Like Zechariah, we do not often get to see the big picture, but there are angels among us who bring us good news for today, who give us hope for the next step, who show that Christ is with us, who let us know that God is here with a plan, and hope for our future.
Where do you need hope spoken into a barren spot in your life? We are here today to ask God in Jesus Christ to bring you a message of hope in your life where it feels bleak. Then I invite you to notice who or what brings you messages of hope, signs of new life, moments of joy and gladness. Who are the angels among us—for you, who are the messengers of good news? It may come from unexpected sources in surprising ways this week. They may be human or a furry friend. They may have good teeth or no teeth. They may vote like you or be the polar opposite of you. This season is about being open to unexpected messages of hope from unlikely sources. Jesus opens our hearts to receive the angels among us who bring good news.
Then God calls us to expand hope as we become messengers of hope ourselves—angels for others. How might we become angels among us for others? Like Zechariah, what message of hope do you have to offer the exhausted parent at the mall, the stressed store clerk, the overworked airport staff, the underappreciated teacher or principal, the unnoticed neighbor? Ask God to show you one way this week to be a messenger of hope and good news for someone else.
As we receive God’s hope for us today in our Savior Jesus Christ, we become messengers of hope for others—and not just a flutter, but we go from here as a force field of angels among us!
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Linda Anderson-Little