Holy Trinity Ankeny

They stood in silence and whispered a risk: “Jesus is Lord.” Not a slogan. Not a ritual. A choice that could cost everything. What kind of faith dares to speak when power says to stay quiet? This week, Revelation doesn't give us dragons or end times charts. It gives us a vision—a multitude, a Shepherd, and a God who sees every tear. Acts 9:36–43 | Revelation 7:9–17 | John 10:22–30

Ever been on the wrong road, headed the wrong way? Worse yet, even been on the on the wrong road and not know it? Peter and Paul are on the wrong road in the scriptures for this day. No map, GPS, or self-help will straighten them out, turn them around or get them headed in the right direction. Only an act of resurrection can do that. Thankfully Jesus intervenes to alter their courses – as he does with us, every day.

Last week was Easter — but the story isn't over. For resurrection people, Easter never ends. After the crowds thin and the music fades, a quieter question remains: Is it still true? Is resurrection still real… even now? Like Thomas, we find ourselves reaching out — hoping to touch what our hearts dare to believe. Acts 5:27–32 | Revelation 1:4–8 | John 20:19–31

Christians have come to worship not on the seventh day (Sabbath) but on the eighth day, a day that signifies new creation. When the women came to the tomb of Jesus, they were prepared to anoint a dead body. They expected nothing new, so they brought spices and cloth, grief and despair. They had no expectation that a new creation had dawned in the resurrection of Christ. The eighth day brought hope and is a day we celebrate every week as we gather, hear the bread, share the meal, and send the risen people of God back into the world to be the risen Christ.  

They laid their cloaks on the road—not just as a gesture of welcome, but as a sign of surrender. A letting go. That moment asked something of them. And it asks something of us too. So here's the question: What are you still holding onto? What stays wrapped around your shoulders, even as Jesus passes by? Luke 19:28-40 

Soren Kierkegaard, Danish theologian and philosopher, said that Christ did not come to make admirers. He came to make followers. You can admire Abraham Lincoln, but you can't become him. You can admire Michael Jordon or Caitlin Clark, but you can't become them. To admire Christ is to live a life untransformed by his grace. To follow him is to become like him. May this be our Lenten journey.

A lost son in a distant country. A loyal son who never left. Both lost more than they realized. What if being found isn't about where you are—but about who knows you?   Joshua 5:9-12 | 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 | Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Repentance is not one of our favorite topics of discussion. In the Season of Lent, and in the Gospel of Luke, the subject is unavoidable. If we believe that we have faith and repent so that we can earn God's favor and avoid God's punishment, repentance is like a bad report card. Luke's message today unflinchingly declares that we cannot avoid the tragedy of life. We cannot assume that our prosperity means God loves us more than others. The day of death and judgment will come to all. Jesus' parable of the fig tree declares that though unavoidable, today is an opportunity for grace to turn us around and help us bear fruit.

Pastor David Cline served as our guest preacher this week.

What if Jesus had said yes? What if the story had gone differently? And what if his temptations aren't so different from our own? Deuteronomy 26:1-11 | Romans 10:8b-13 | Luke 4:1-13

The season of Epiphany begins at Jesus' baptism with a heavenly announcement, “You are my son, the beloved.” The season ends with an announcement from the cloud, “This is my son, the Chosen. Listen to him.” Epiphany is about the multi-faceted revelation of Jesus' identity. “Who is Jesus?” is the prime question we must sort out before we can follow him.

Jesus says hard things a lot. Perhaps no words uttered by the Lord are more difficult than “Love your enemies.” His call to forgive those who harm us and bless those who curse us are not mainstream. No Liam Neeson movie would garner an audience if he went around forgiving. No, we like revenge and retribution. We like to hold on to grudges. The question is, how does the reign of God – a reign of mercy dawn in a world based on revenge? Maybe it doesn't.

Have you ever felt invisible—like you could walk through a crowd and no one would notice? We all long to be seen, to know that we matter. But what if the one who sees us best is the one we least expect?   Jeremiah 17:5-10 | 1 Corinthians 15:12-20 | Luke 6:17-26

Holy Trinity welcomes Bishop Amy Current of the Southeastern Iowa Synod of the ELCA as our preacher. She shares a story of grace where the big story is not about the fish.

The doctor tells me I have cancer. That can make one stop and think. To walk the path ahead, I find myself thinking about what kind of God I need. A god who planned my cancer? Maybe one who will supply a miracle when all hope is lost? No, I am convinced that the God I need is the one who created a world where radiation and radiologists, scalpels and surgeons bring to bear the grace of creation. More important, I need a God who is not aloof and far off, inscrutable and impassive, but one who knows my sufferings and shares them. That is the God revealed in Christ and his cross.

Washington and Wall Street, magnates and millionaires all have agendas for the shaping of the world in their own image. The changes and fads come and go and most often create chaos. Jesus announced his agenda in his home synagogue. He came to give good news to the poor, release the captives, give sight to the blind, lift up the oppressed and set the world right. With each healing, teaching, and his rising from the dead he pursued that agenda. What does that have to do with us?

When the world cries out for answers, what does it mean to tug on the sleeve of Jesus? From empty wine jars to the cries of grief, moments of scarcity meet unexpected abundance. What happens when we plead, 'Do something about it?   Isaiah 62:1-5 | 1 Corinthians 12:1-11 | John 2:1-11

So, why does Jesus need to be baptized? If he is sinless, what forgiveness is needed? Why does the Son of God submit to John's baptism when even John claims he is unworthy to “untie the thong” of Jesus' sandals? These are questions that have vexed the Church for centuries. Luke's unique way of dealing with these questions places John in prison and flows the baptism with a family tree. The result is the gift of baptism given to us as children of God. 

When we celebrate the Feast of Epiphany, we tell the story of astronomers from the east who bring three gifts. Christmas pageants and hymns portray these visitors as three kings. There are however, only two kings in the story. The fake one named Herod sitting on a throne in Jerusalem and the real one, Jesus, lying in a manger in Bethlehem. Isaiah saw the day when the nations would worship Israel's kings, bringing gold and frankincense. The myrrh in Matthew's story adds a substance used for burial and the cross looms. Jesus is not just a personal savior but a ruler who brings a new kingdom in his life, death, and resurrection.

As we step into the new year, Paul's words to the Colossians remind us that the Christian life isn't about striving to accomplish an impossible checklist. It's about letting Christ—letting Christ's peace, love, and word dwell in us and work through us. In a world focused on resolutions and self-improvement, Paul invites us to surrender, trust, and clothe ourselves in Christ. 

Incarnation – the divine becoming flesh - is a wildly radical notion. Most religious thought in human history has firmly fixed a chasm between heaven and earth, between divinity and humanity. Yet we proclaim that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” What does this mean?

Calling the night of our Savior's birth :silent” seems an historical stretch. After all there were noisy animals, singing angels, shepherds speaking, and a crying baby. There were also many voices in the world made it seem impossible that anything or anyone important could happen in Bethlehem. Our love of this carol seems to be rooted in not the facts of the event but the longing we have to find an end to the violence, cries of suffering, and voices of injustice and despair that are all around us. Perhaps that is what this savior brings.

Mary's Magnificat isn't a lullaby—it's a revolution. The world is about to turn, and everything is changing. A humble girl sings of God's justice, lifting the lowly and scattering the proud. This isn't just ancient history—it's the hope we hold onto today.

When John the Baptist addresses his congregation as a “Brood of vipers,” it hardly seems like good news. Rather than an insult, however, John is calling out the misguided notion that we can avoid judgment because we're the right kind of people. We shall all be shaped for life in the reign of God through judgment or repentance. Repentance invites us to live in the presence of Christ now as people dedicated to justice, love, and compassion. It is very good news, indeed.

Worship features readings of the season and music by the Adult Choir and a small chamber ensemble.

Advent is more than waiting—it's stewarding hope. In a world weighed down by uncertainty and injustice, how do we rise up and see signs of God's kingdom breaking in today?

To whom will we give our lives to? That is the question on the Festival of Christ the King. Will it be the kings, presidents, rulers, and powers of this world? Wall Street or Madison Avenue? Or will we serve the only one “who was, who is, and the one coming?” as the Book of Revelation names him? Will we trust the powers and people who will pass away or the one who is eternal?

Whenever the Bible speaks of suffering, war, or cataclysm of any kind we tend to assume it is speaking of God's punishment. Jesus does not do that. Referring to the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, “war and rumors of war,” he calls them “birth pangs.” This does not minimize the suffering and pain. It reminds us, however, that the birth pangs are not the baby. In these days of uncertainty and chaos, it is easy to fear the world is ending. It is in way. But these are the birth pangs, not the reign of God that will make all things new.

What does it mean to give everything when you don't have enough to begin with? A widow's offering of two small coins challenges everything we know about generosity, trust, and faith. In a world that devours us, how can we respond with faith that holds nothing back? What does it truly mean to offer our all?

If you don't know where you are headed, you're probably lost. This world seems lost, unsure of where we are going or who will lead us. As followers of Jesus Christ, we know where the world is headed and what the end looks like. It is what he revealed in his life, death, and resurrection. The reign of God is not yet here, but it is already dawning, all around us. On All Saints Day we remember all the saints who have lived into God's future by being “already” people in a “not yet” world.

You are a beloved child of God. Know that you are accepted; you are loved by the one who made the universe. 

It is common to look at the trouble of the world and ask why God does not do something about it all. But what if God has done something, and that something is you? Luke, the masterful storyteller, and evangelist offers some of the most beloved and memorable teachings of Jesus we know. In many of them, Jesus is not the miracle worker. Instead, after an encounter with the overwhelming love of God in Christ, miraculous things are done by people like you and me.

For people who live in a culture so grounded in material possessions and having “stuff,” Jesus' instruction to “sell everything and give to the poor. And then follow me…” (Mark 10), is challenging to say the least. Is Jesus serious? When what we possess gets in the way of our relationship with what truly matters, when we see faith as yet another possession, maybe this command is what saves us.

Amid destruction and despair, Isaiah's words remind us that God's promise is both present and future—a hope that invites all to the table, where death is defeated and new life begins. Isaiah 25:6-9 | 1 Corinthians 11:20-26 | Luke 24:22-33

In today's gospel, Jesus speaks of plucking out eyes and cutting off hands—but what if we've misunderstood? What if true wholeness comes from letting go? Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29 | James 5:13-20 | Mark 9:38-50

Ever felt lost in confusion, even when you're right in the middle of faith? You're not alone. Sometimes the greatest lessons come when we're the most uncertain. In our confusion, Jesus reassures us that he will always be with us.   Jeremiah 11:18-20 | James 3:13—4:3, 7-8a | Mark 9:30-37

Peter thought he had it all figured out. He had the right title, but completely missed the meaning. What happens when we try to make Jesus fit our expectations? Isaiah 50:4-9a | James 3:1-12 | Mark 8:27-38

Deacon Jodi Schuman visits Holy Trinity and preaches on Mark 7 this week.

Jesus and the Pharisees clash again—this time over handwashing traditions. Ever wonder if the rituals you follow are drawing you closer to God—or pulling you away? Sometimes, it's time to uncover the dirt in our spiritual lives. Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9 | James 1:17-27 | Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

There are words and phrases that everyone needs to hear in their life. Sometimes it is simply “I love you”  or “I am proud of you.” Other times, when life is really hard and we cry out “God where are you,” someone in our life brings us the good news that God is with us and God is with you. It is the good news of Advent, the good news of Easter, and the good news of Pentecost. The Lord be with you.   Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18 | Ephesians 6:10-20 | John 6:56-69

Imagine standing in a crowd of thousands, hungry for more than just bread. What if the bread you sought wasn't just food, but a radical invitation?   Proverbs 9:1-6 | Ephesians 5:15-20 | John 6:51-58  

Have you ever felt like life is more valley than mountaintop? Elijah did too. He stood against kings, called down fire from heaven, and yet, he found himself alone, exhausted, and ready to give up. But it was in that dark valley, not on the mountaintop, where God met him with the most tender, sustaining grace.   1 Kings 19:4-8 | Ephesians 4:25—5:2 | John 6:35, 41-51

Have you ever felt the anxiety of not knowing where someone important is, especially after midnight? The crowd in John's Gospel experienced a similar fear when they couldn't find Jesus. But it just wasn't that they couldn't find Jesus, it was that they had expectations that were not being met.   Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15 | Ephesians 4:1-16 | John 6:24-35

We all have that bucket of leftover parts sitting on a workbench. They are those extra bolts and screws that we just can't bring ourselves to toss in the garbage. In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus tells the disciples to gather up the leftovers from the feeding of the multitude. There is good news for those of us who are left out and leftover.   2 Kings 4:42-44 | Ephesians 3:14-21 | John 6:1-21

Have you ever been so consumed by anger that it becomes a part of you, unnoticed by yourself but evident to everyone else? It is easy to get that way in our world today. We can be angry about pretty much anything. Staying angry is a lot of work. Being angry is exhausting. Jesus tells the disciples today to come away with him and rest -- something we all need to hear. Jeremiah 23:1-6 | Ephesians 2:11-22 | Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

A plumb line measures whether things are vertical, straight, or up to snuff. Amos sees a plumb line measuring the nation of Israel and Israel is not plumb. They have tilted away from the ways of God, justice, and care for those in need. God will not let this stand forever. Either what is out of plumb must be straightened or it will fall. Christ is our plumb line revealing when we are out of sync with God's reign. By grace, he can bring us back in line with the ways of God.  

In a world where we ridicule “losers,” demean failure, and look for the strong and successful, it is hard to remember that God specializes in weakness. Paul prays that a “thorn in his flesh” be taken from him because it makes him weak. God says, “My grace is sufficient for you. Power is made perfect in weakness.” God makes strong when we are weak. Look to the one who died on the cross for this truth.

Mark's Gospel moves swiftly, yet pauses with purpose to show us profound moments of healing and faith. Today we encounter a desperate father pleading for his dying daughter, and a woman, shunned by society for twelve long years, reaching out for a miracle.   Lamentations 3:22-33 | 2 Corinthians 8:7-15 | Mark 5:21-43

In this world full of suffering and pain, we often ask God, “Why?” Some even assert that if there is suffering in the world it is proof that God does not exist unless a compelling answer can be given. What if “Why” is the wrong question? The message of the Book of Job offers no answer to Job's asking God why. Instead, God is present to Job. When we suffer, the question to ask is, “Who?” and “Where?” Jesus is the embodiment of God's answer. God is present in our suffering.

When confronted with the troubles of the world or the decline of our personal life we can long for something new, something that fixes things, solves our problems. We tend to look for the quick fix, the silver bullet, the latest and greatest advice. Scripture tells us that the reign of God doesn't work that way. Mustard seeds, growing seed, sprigs of a cedar tree are signs that God is at work. The new creation dawns slowly, patiently and often, as something we can only observe as God works.

I grew up in a church that had an enormous sanctuary. It was filled with stained-glass windows. There was plenty of real estate for depictions of stories from the Bible. Not one inch was dedicated to depicting Jesus as a thief. In the Gospel today, Jesus tells a story about binding a strong man and plundering the house. Is Jesus the strongman or the thief?   Genesis 3:8-15 | 2 Corinthians 4:13 - 5:1 | Mark 3:20-35