Podcast appearances and mentions of christ lutheran

Abraham, nearing the end of his life, entrusts his servant with a sacred mission: find a wife for Isaac from his homeland. The servant prays for guidance, and before he finishes speaking, Rebekah appears. Her kindness and hospitality reveal God's answer. This moment at the well is not coincidence, but divine provision, reminding us that God is always ahead of us, arranging our steps.  The Rev. Jesse Baker, pastor of Family of Christ Lutheran Church in Houlton, WI, joins the Rev. Dr. Phil Booe to study Genesis 24:1–33.  To learn more about Family of Christ Lutheran, visit familyofchristhoulton.org. Genesis isn't just the start of the Bible; it's the foundation of everything. Creation, sin, judgment, grace, covenant, and promise all take root in this remarkable book. The stories are ancient, but their truths are eternal. In this new series from Thy Strong Word, Pastor Phil Booe and his guests walk verse by verse through Genesis, exploring how God reveals Himself as Creator, Judge, and Redeemer. From the grandeur of the cosmos to the struggles of ordinary families, Genesis introduces us to a God who speaks, acts, and keeps His promises. So, whether you've read it a hundred times or are just now cracking it open for a serious look, this series will help you see Genesis with fresh eyes—and a deeper faith. Thy Strong Word, hosted by Rev. Dr. Phil Booe, pastor of St. John Lutheran Church of Luverne, MN, reveals the light of our salvation in Christ through study of God's Word, breaking our darkness with His redeeming light. Each weekday, two pastors fix our eyes on Jesus by considering Holy Scripture, verse by verse, in order to be strengthened in the Word and be equipped to faithfully serve in our daily vocations. Submit comments or questions to: thystrongword@kfuo.org.

September 29, 2024. Today's sermon is about lines in the sand. Jesus' disciples tried to draw a line in the sand in our gospel reading. And today, humans are still drawing lines in the sand, leaving out those most vulnerable. But new things are emerging, here in our own lives, at Christ Lutheran, and in our synod. The Spirit of God moves in all of us. God is erasing the lines, and we are called to help with the work.Readings: Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29, James 5:13-20, Mark 9:38-50

What sustains a pastor through 35 years of ministry? Join us as John Stennfeld, a seasoned pastor at Christ Lutheran in Austin, Texas, reveals the foundations of his enduring journey. With a focus on God's word and a balanced identity, John discusses how understanding his "why" has influenced his leadership and ministry. Discover the significance of knowing who you are as a child of God and why this identity should take precedence over worldly labels.Explore the rich tapestry of Lutheran worship as we navigate the balance between traditional and contemporary practices. From historical instruments to modern music integration, John sheds light on the evolving landscape of church services. We also challenge common philosophical misconceptions, critiquing Platonic dualism and advocating for a resurrection-centered belief. Gain a deeper understanding of how theology and philosophy intertwine, impacting modern American life and contemporary theology.Imagine the new heaven and new earth as envisioned in Christian theology. Reflect on joyful reunions, eternal fellowship, and the embrace of absolute truth in a world of subjective realities. John shares creative ways churches can engage their communities, from pumpkin patches to pickleball, emphasizing the need for outreach beyond traditional worship. Learn about the transformative power of Christ's message and how living a life centered on His teachings can make a profound impact. Connect with John and explore more at ChristAustin.org.Ask Ralph - Christian FinanceJoin financial expert Ralph Estep, Jr - Daily tips for balancing your faith and finances. Listen on: Apple Podcasts SpotifySupport the Show.Join the Lead Time Newsletter! (Weekly Updates and Upcoming Episodes)https://www.uniteleadership.org/lead-time-podcast#newsletterVisit uniteleadership.org

The Ordination of Rev. Jonas Ellison Is. 6:1-8 + Ps 139:1-18 + 1 Cor. 4:1-5 + Luke 24:13-35 On Saturday, October 14, 2023 St. Columba's Episcopal Church had the joy and privilege of hosting Bishop Claire Burkat of the ELCA in celebration of the ordination of Rev. Jonas Ellison to the Ministry of Word and Sacrament. To the good people of Christ Lutheran, Aptos, CA, we are delighted to have shared in the joy of this moment for all of you. To Jonas, my friend and brother in Christ, know Fernando and I are grateful to have participated in your ordination and trust that I commit to walking with you, Alex and Rory on this journey of your ministry. May our sister churches grow ever closer in shared ministry, fellowship and communion as the fruit of our deep friendship. I am blessed by the invitation to have preached at your ordination, and pray that these words will inspire you to be a gentle pastor and shining example of Christ's love in the world. The church is better today for counting you among her ministers. May your ministry bear fruit abundant. As Ever in Christ our Lord, Fr. Vincent Pizzuto, PhD., Vicar, St. Columba's Episcopal Church, Inverness, California WELCOME on the Occasion of the Ordination of Rev. Jonas Ellison Good morning! Bishop Claire, beloved members of Christ Lutheran, friends and family: on behalf of my congregation here at St. Columba's it is my pleasure to welcome you all to our little church and retreat house here in Inverness for such a joyous occasion. My name is Fr. Vincent I am a professor at the USF where I have taught for the past 20 years, and priest here at SC where I serve as the vicar. It would be hard for me to put into words the joy and pride, and hope I feel at being a part of Jonas' ordination. He and his wife Alex and their daughter Rory have become fast friends and people with whom I share a deep spiritual resonance and wicked sense of humor. I want to extent hearty congratulations to the Call Team of Christ Lutheran for the work you have done in summoning Jonas to this work of ministry with you. And I look forward to getting to know you better at our reception and in creating deeper partnerships in the years ahead. SERMON Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. + I speak to you today in the Name of the Three in One and One in Three. Amen. Sisters and brothers, the church is dying. Our congregations are hemorrhaging. And Christianity is losing its capacity to speak to a world exhausted by conflict, scandalized by human depravity and unspeakable violence, wearied by the existential threats of climate collapse, terrified by the resurgence of fascism, and reeling by the need to come to terms with a tradition that has been coopted or complicit in a history of colonialism and racism. This is the church and the world into which Jonas is being called to serve as a minister. And make no mistake, it is because of people like him – who carries within himself a pastor's heart -- that I am filled with profound hope. Hope for the church and for the world. And so I speak most directly today to you, good people of Christ Lutheran. And I ask you to hear me with a tender heart. To listen with an open mind. Because I don't want to waste your time today offering a few light hearted jokes, some shallow comments to make us all feel good, a proverbial pat on Jonas' back -- and call it sermon. No. I want to talk with you about the radical, scandalous beauty of Christianity that the modern church has all but forgotten, but about which I believe Jonas has the capacity to summon you. I want to remind you of what Christ calls the kingdom of God. Not just a quaint idea or a future promise, but that great and redemptive interruption of the terror of human that breaks upon us – even now -- not with the ferocity of a divine warrior but with the vulnerability of an infant messiah. I want to remind you of what it is we profess in Christ: nothing less than God's journey into every living soul. I want to proclaim anew this unspeakable joy of Christ, whose light has arisen in history, and extends now to the shadows of every human heart. This is the good news the world is desperate to hear. For all our social media and its efforts to connect us, we still crave for spiritual intimacy, deep down what we hunger for is not a church that will be just another social club, but a compassionate spiritual community that will nurture us into our most authentic selves; a place where we can hold a communal faith even as we are accompanied in our deepest interior lives. It is all the more tragic, then, that Christianity has become associated in the popular mind with a body-hating worldview or with certain forms of doctrinal rigidity, institutional hypocrisy, scientific ignorance, and religious intolerance—assessments that too often bear merit. The rise of modern secularism in the West along with the precipitous decline in church attendance must be understood, at least in part, as a purifying corrective to the spiritual, moral, and imaginative failures of our religious institutions. The consequence of these failures is the church's diminishing capacity to convey beauty. We have forgotten how to communicate the radical, scandalous beauty of the incarnation. It is, after all, beauty that attracts the human spirit and beauty that compels the human conscience toward the good, not the dry, rigid formulas of doctrine, nor the clinical dissection of biblical texts, nor the petty infighting among our denominations, nor the ethical demands to love even before we ourselves have been made to understand not only that we are lovable, but that we are indeed love itself. We are love incarnate! And this truth flows from the very heart and center of Christian faith: Ours is a God who will not tolerate confinement in a far-away-heaven, forever distant and transcendent, but who tears beyond the veil of eternity who breaks into time itself, to enter the very flesh of our flesh, the very marrow of our bones, as One who is “crazy” in love and who begs to be loved in return. If it is true, as the early Fathers insisted, that the church is most herself at liturgy, it is because every time we gather around word and sacrament, we gather to realize that very truth, to celebrate and embody the very reality that each of us are members of Christ's very body still incarnate in the world. It is what the early church called, the Incarnatio continua. The Church as the “continuation of the incarnation” in the world. Just, hold that thought for a moment. Ponder it. We are, each of us, members, of Christ's body. Paul insists upon this repeatedly throughout his letters, 2 Peter tells us “We are partakers of the divine nature” and Jesus teaches us in the gospel of John, “I am the vine you are the branches.” Notice what he is saying there! Where the vine ends and the branch begins is not marked by a radical break or a separation but an organic continuity. “I am the vine you are the branches.” Where my body ends and yours begins is marked by separation but endless continuity. The very fine of my body gives live, gives being, gives divinity to the branch of your body. The early church called this deification or theosis: the affirmation that in Christ, God became human that humanity might be made divine. As St. Augustine would tell us: “God is more interior to us than we are to ourselves.” And if the world is to know this, we must not only preach it, but live it. And not only live it but celebrate it. The fact that most Christians today would be confused and even scandalized by this almost unqualified union between Christ and humanity as expressed by the early church marks a radical failure of the church to communicate to the modern world its greatest spiritual treasure: The incarnation has made mystics of us all. In its wake, the modern invention of biblical literalism has rushed in to fill the void. As a result, Christianity has been reduced to a new kind of Pharisaism centered on moral scrupulosity and obsessed with personal salvation. Unable to see Christ immanent in one's own body, in material flesh, in creation itself, Christ remains a distant overlord rather than the Cosmic Christ whose life-giving energy pulsates through every living atom. Having forfeited the cosmic dimension of salvation history, we have no way of conveying what it means that in Christ heaven and earth interpenetrate the other. That all ground is holy ground. All water is holy water. All bread is Eucharist. All life—not merely human life—is sacred. And this is the very mystery of our faith, the very truth we come to celebrate in the liturgy. The incarnation has made mystics of us all! And this truth is deeply embedded in the gospel we heard proclaimed today. Now I understand that when many of us here, the word “Mysticism” we think of individuals, perhaps the medieval Mystics with their visions of heavenly things, or their experiences of divine union, and so forth. But that is not the earliest nor the most essential understanding of Christian mysticism.  From its beginnings, mysticism was never the possession of any one individual or an elite spiritual class, but a possession of the entire church. Collectively, as a whole, the church is by its very nature, mystical. And mysticism, as it became associated with early Christianity, took on three interrelated dimensions. Specifically, an unveiling of the hidden presence of Christ in Word, in Sacrament, and in the depths of the human heart. And thus, the Christian liturgy was understood as essentially mystical because by its very nature it unveiled the hidden presence of Christ in Word, in Sacrament and ultimately in one's own heart. And this connection between liturgy and the mysticism underlies the whole of the gospel we heard this morning. Among our most cherished of resurrection narratives, The Road to Emmaus, as it has come to be called, is unique to Luke's gospel and reflects in its overall structure, the very pattern of the early Christian liturgy and this three-fold understanding of mysticism understood by the early church. And that pattern, as I will briefly spell out here, is still discernIble today. Suggestive of a liturgical procession, the story begins with two disciples – Cleopas and an unnamed companion – walking to Emmaus outside Jerusalem on the first Easter morning. Alone on the desert road, some distance from the city, Luke tells us that Christ “drew near and walked among them” just as he promised whenever two or three would gather in his name. Unable to recognize him (*notice Christ is present but still ‘hidden'), we learn that Cleopas and his companion are downcast because of the recent crucifixion of Jesus to say nothing of their bewilderment about rumors concerning his now empty tomb. Their state of mind is much like many in the world today: downcast, bewildered, overwhelmed. Yet, they are captivated as Jesus gently chides them for their lack of faith, even as he unfolds the meaning of the scriptures as they relate to himself (Again, notice how Christ is unveiling how he is, indeed, present in the scriptures themselves). This is not unlike our own Liturgy of the Word, where we too proclaim the scriptures and offer sermons to reveal Christ hidden within them. As they approach Emmaus, the disciples invite him to gather with them in table fellowship, whereupon Luke describes Jesus' actions precisely as he does at the Last Supper: “He took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them.” Indeed, even now these are the same words we will proclaim at the Eucharist. “With that,” Luke tells us, “…their eyes were opened and they recognized him in the breaking of the bread,” even as he vanished from their sight. Here again, the hidden presence of Christ in the Eucharist is revealed, even as his former, bodily form disappears. Amazed, they depart immediately again for Jerusalem, exclaiming to one another, “Where not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us along the way…!” “Where not our hearts burning” – here we see that third element of the mystical essence of the liturgy: The intuitive sense that Christ is present within our own hearts that burn with recognition even before we have words to describe it. Perhaps most importantly but least appreciated, they do not stay in Emmaus basking in their private mystical encounter, but immediately begin to make their way back to Jerusalem. This reflects precisely the liturgical dismissal or “sending forth” as it is sometimes called.  And indeed, like the disciple's mystical encounter with Christ in Emmaus, the dismissal is the precisely moment to which our eucharist is oriented. Perhaps then, reflecting the very structure of the Christian liturgy would perhaps be better named, “The Road from Emmaus.” Because what matters for them and for us is that once they depart Emmaus, they go out into the world to proclaim the Good News: “Christ is risen!” And this is why the liturgy ends so abruptly once we have shared Communion. As the Christian commemoration of the first Passover, where Israel too was instructed to eat quickly (sandals on their feet, and buckles around their waists) so too in the liturgy, there is but a brief benediction, a hymn to get the procession going, followed by some version of the dismissal: “Go! This Mass has ended!” Looking at it this way, much like the disciples on the Road from Emmaus, even today Jonas and his family will literally “eat and run” as it were, to make their way to Aptos where the fruits of his ordination will hold out the promise of new life. As Jesus reminds us repeatedly throughout the gospel, there is little time to waste. The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few!  And yet today we blessedly celebrate the commissioning, the ordination of a new laborer…and that is no small thing. Good people of Atos: You have called as your shepherd a man who is not interested in the church as social club, but as agent of transformation. He is not interested in expediency but the radical and transformative beauty of the Christian tradition and the liturgy that celebrates it. He understands the beauty of the tradition and he desires to foster a community of people who learn what it means to be authentic and spiritually intimate.  But above all, he knows in the very marrow of his bones the presence of Christ in all things, and he holds within him the very heart of a pastor. Open your hearts to him as I know he desires to open his heart to you. Cleopas is on his way – and with news of a joy unspeakable. Jonas and Christ Lutheran, may your journey ahead be swift, but above all, blessed by the Christ hidden in all things! + Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Got Something to Say? is brought to you by United Federal Credit Union – We Get U! Christ Lutheran Church and School is getting ready for a Rummage Sale! The sale runs Thursday, June 22, noon to

Pastor Tyler Arnold joins Steph to talk about the vital role that visitation plays in the life of the Christian community. Author of the recent release Pastoral Visitation: For the Care of Souls (available from Lexham Press), Pastor Arnold makes a compelling case for church members to pay visit to one another and for pastors to visit their people – to be with one another as the fellowship of believers is a good way to do life together. Learn about what Pastor Arnold describes as this “with” way in Episode 48! Bio: Tyler C. Arnold was born August 23, 1973 in Alton, Illinois. He graduated from Roxana High School in 1991 and Concordia University, River Forest in 1995 with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Sociology. He attended Concordia Seminary in St. Louis and graduated in 1999 with a Master of Divinity degree. In 2019, Pastor Arnold received his Doctor of Ministry degree from Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, IN in the area of Pastoral Care. Pastor Arnold has served as a parish pastor since 1999. He was the Assistant Pastor at Christ Lutheran, Platte Woods, MO. from 1999-2004. In 2004 he accepted a Divine Call to serve as Pastor of Trinity Lutheran in Millstadt, IL. He later returned to Christ Lutheran in Platte Woods in 2006 to serve as Sr. Pastor where he served until 2022. He is currently Pastor at Village Lutheran Church, Ladue, MO. Pastor Arnold has served on the Board of Congregational Support for the Southern Illinois District, as the Chairman for the Committee on Structure and Administration for the Missouri District as well as the District's Structure and Administration Task Force (Rev. Dr. Kevin Golden was the Chairman of the Task Force). He has also served on the Board of Directors at Unity Lutheran School in East St. Louis, IL as well as Pastoral Advisor to the Executive Council of the Northland Lutheran School Association in the Kansas City Northland. He served for nine years as a Circuit Visitor and on various District program and conference committees. Currently, he serves as a member of the Board of Regents for Concordia Seminary, St. Louis and is a “Fellow” on the Collegium of Pastors for DOXOLOGY – The Lutheran Center for Spiritual Care and Counsel. Pastor Arnold is the author of the book, Pastoral Visitation: For the Care of Souls published by Lexham Press. He has written articles published in by the LCMS blog, The Lutheran Witness, SEELSORGER – A Journal for the Contemporary Cure of Souls, LOGIA and Christianity Today. He also wrote a Bible study called, Finding Balance and Perspective in Ministry published by the LCMS. He has been a speaker at District Pastors Conferences and various retreats on the topic of the care of souls. He was joined in Holy Matrimony to Andrea (nee Thur) in 1995 at Holy Cross Lutheran in Ste. Genevieve, MO where her father served as pastor at the time. They are blessed with two sons: Jacob, 25, a graduate of Missouri State University lives in Herculaneum, MO and works for Roeslein and Associates and Benjamin, 22, is a Lance Corporal in the United States Marine Corps. His Military Occupation Specialty (MOS) is signals intelligence. Learn about LCMS Life Ministry at lcms.org/life, and email us at friendsforlife@lcms.org. Not all the views expressed are necessarily those of the LCMS; please discuss any questions with your pastor.

We continued our topic on Biblical Separation, focusing on Ecclesiastical Separation, specifically talking about some of the apostate beliefs of the United Methodist Church (UMC), the United Church of Christ (UCC), the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), and the World Council of Churches (WCC). Listen as Pastor/Dr. David Murphy discusses this topic and answers other listener questions.

February 27, 2022. In today's gospel reading we witness Jesus being transfigured, and hear that Peter suggested trying to capture what had happened, so he could understand it, recreate it, and make sure it wouldn't be lost. We humans like the familiar, the predictable, the understandable. But the truth is that life is always changing, and we are always changing with it. Reading: Luke 9:28-43a *** Transcript *** I was in a workshop on anti-racism this week that was provided by the Synod, and one of the facilitators said something — not once, but several times — that really got me thinking. They said, “In this world that seems to be changing faster and faster, and calling on us to keep up with those changes, we can be comforted by the fact that God never changes. God was, and is, and ever shall be, the same.” God never changes. And then, on this final Sunday before Lent begins, in the gospel, we witness Jesus being transfigured — experiencing a complete change of form or appearance — in front of our eyes. I reflected on all the ways God reveals themselves throughout scriptures — a burning bush, parting waters, a nursing mother, a pillar of cloud, a voice from heaven, a whisper, just to name a few. And I wonder, if it is true that God never changes, what does that mean? And if God does change, how can we trust God, if we don't know how they will show up, if we can't even understand her? We humans like the familiar, the predictable, the understandable, don't we? I certainly do. I learned long ago that my favorite way to control things, to feel safe, to cope with things that felt beyond me, is to understand them, categorize them, put them safely in a box that I can analyze from a distance. I will admit to spending a fair amount of time doing this since we entered into a world of pandemic two years ago. Does anyone else relate to that? The disciples, after witnessing the amazing mountaintop scene, seem to want to do this too. As soon as it is over and Peter has recovered his speech Peter says, “It is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Let's try to capture what happened, so we can understand it, recreate it, and make sure it won't be lost. Theologian Debie Thomas writes in her blog Journey With Jesus this week: “The problem in the Transfiguration story is that as soon as Peter experiences a spiritual high, he tries to hoard it. What I hear in his plan to 'make dwellings' is an understandable but misguided attempt to contain, domesticate, protect, and process the sublime. To harness the holy. To make the fleeting permanent. To keep Jesus shiny, beautiful, and safe up on a mountain. After all, everything is so good up there. So clear. So bright. So unmistakably spiritual. Why not stay forever?” In our desire for the familiar, predictable, and understandable, we often do the same thing. When we have an experience of God in worship or on retreat that feels powerful or sublime, or hear an exquisite performance, or perform a piece of music perfectly, or create a work of art that somehow, miraculously comes out even better than we could have imagined, or go on a hike and find ourselves in a place that seems to be surely be where God lives... who doesn't want to stay there forever? The sacred truth of life is that it is always changing. The sacred truth is, we are always changing. How we see the world, how we see God, and how we understand ourselves changes over time. A young adult realizes their parents are human, after all. An addict admits after years of struggle that they need help. An LGBTQIA person embraces the beautifully unique person they were created to be, claiming gender or ways of loving and living for perhaps the first time. One comfortable in their understanding of God comes to realize that God is far bigger than they had ever thought. Transfiguration, beloveds, is not just for Jesus, but for all of us. Transfiguration means that the Spirit is never done transforming us, revealing us more fully. Change, beloveds, is not only unavoidable, but is part of God's creative work in our lives. In the end, the voice of God is enough for Peter to set aside capturing Jesus' moment of transformation. Having failed to encapsulate the mountaintop, the disciples tell no one what they have experienced. They come back down from the mountain, after all, to the world that is not always shiny, beautiful, and safe. They return to an occupied land on a road that in a few short weeks will lead from Transfiguration, to Jesus' death on the cross. In our time, we witness the gross injustice and horror of the attack and invasion of Ukraine by a dictator that has already brought death. A war is unfolding, the likes of which has not been seen since World War II. We as people of faith, with leaders around the world, are faced with the question of how we can contribute not just to an empty peace, an absence of war, but God's justice and mercy in this world, and especially for the people of Ukraine, whose autonomy, dignity, and very lives are being treated as pawns in a deadly game of corrupted power. At times like this, it may feel that when we leave the mountain, we leave God behind too. It may help in those times to remember that when the disciples left the mountain, Jesus walked with them, down the road into the broken world below. For us in our day, we can know that God is present in this world, even in the midst of violence and war. Jesus walked with them. Debie Thomas reflects on the return from the mountain: “God is just as present, active, engaged, and glorious down in the valley as God is in the visions of saints, clouds, and shadows that Peter experienced in the high places. In fact, what Peter eventually learns is that the compassionate heart of God is most powerfully revealed amidst the broken, the sinful, the suffering, and the despairing. The kingdom of God shines most brightly against the backdrop of the parent who grieves, the child who cries, the 'demons' who oppress, and the disciples who try but fail to manufacture and capture the holy. God's strength is made perfect in our weakness. God's beauty is best contained in broken vessels.” Today we celebrate, in the midst of all else that is going on, just a few of the leaders in our own community who have ministered among us as council members for the last year, and those who we have chosen to minister among us for the next year. Family of Christ Lutheran, we experience in many ways the moments of clarity, beauty, safety, and joy of the mountaintops, and we and our council walk together in those transfiguration moments. And, as Peter and the disciples discovered, we are called down from the mountaintops, with newly opened hearts and spirits, to follow Jesus, witness God present, active, engaged, and glorious, and embody love and mercy in the ordinary, sometimes broken world of sacred, everyday life in our neighborhoods and communities. We as people of faith are called to stand against evil and injustice wherever it manifests, whether in our own backyard or in Ukraine. We are called to continually seek the peace that can only come when God's justice prevails for all people. We are, council members, staff, every one of us followers of Christ, called to journey through the many transfigurations and transformations of our lives, as we live in a world that continually changes around us. It may not be true that God never changes. The good news of the transfiguration is this: in a world that just won't stop changing, as we ourselves change day by day, we can trust God not in spite of, but because God is moving and changing right along with it. Peter and the disciples witnessed it on the mountaintop, and we can see it in our own lives. In the midst of all the seeming chaos, what will never change is God's unfailing presence and unbounded love. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2022, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Luke 9:28-43a, Debie Thomas, Journey With Jesus

January 30, 2022. For centuries we have believed in a “zero-sum game,” that there are limited resources available, and if we extend resources to those who have none, there will be less left for the rest. But today we hear that God promises to be with us all the way, and that there will always be enough. Readings: Jeremiah 1:4-10, 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, Luke 4:21-30 *** Transcript *** I remember when I was newly on a board for a conference planning committee, and I was chosen to be the committee co-chair. The chair, among other things, was responsible for facilitating the joint meetings of the board and the committee, a gathering of about 40 people, a responsibility that would be mine if they needed to be absent for any reason. My immediate reaction, as I thought about the possibility that I might need to step in to chair the meeting, or that I might be chosen as chair the following year, was panic. There is no way I can do this, I thought. I can't possibly facilitate a meeting like that. They've got the wrong person. In our first reading today, Jeremiah has a similar reaction when he hears God's call for him. Maybe some of you can relate as well, as Rachel was just talking about. “You say you've known me since the womb, but honestly, what are you thinking, appointing me to be a prophet to the nations? Just look at me! I'm too young! I can't speak your words to all these people. You're going to have to find someone else. I'm not worthy. I don't have what it takes.” And as we read on, we can hardly blame Jeremiah for trying to beg off what God is asking him to do. It's not as simple as it sounds at first, after all. God has appointed Jeremiah “over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” In other words, God is calling Jeremiah to challenge the powers and empire of his day, and turn the world upside down. Jesus' ministry is no less disruptive. Mary sang in the Magnificat that God had scattered the proud, lifted the lowly, brought down the powerful, filled the hungry, sent the rich away empty. And as we heard last week, when Jesus preaches in the synagogue at Nazareth for the first time, he reads Isaiah's words claiming release for the captive, freedom for the oppressed, and good news for the poor — turning the world upside down. And in today's gospel, when Jesus tells his listeners that these words have been fulfilled in their hearing, and that they really mean what they say, his friends, neighbors, and family find it so radical and hard to accept that they try to push Jesus off a cliff. Interestingly, it seems as if one of the specific things about what Jesus said that his neighbors were angry with was that this message of good news was not just for them, who knew Jesus best. Jesus belongs to God, not Joseph, he says. In fact, the Spirit often carries the promises to the very last person you would expect, even going to them first of all. Jesus' neighbors rage, believing that if others benefit from the good news, there will be less left for them, perhaps even nothing. A group from Christ Lutheran is reading The Sum of Us, by Heather McGhee, and in it she fleshes out what she refers to as our nation's “zero-sum game.” For centuries, we have believed that there are limited resources available, and if we extend resources to those who have none there will be less left for the rest. Specifically, those who hold the most resources have lifted up the narrative that if money, time, and freedom are available to those on the margins, who they say do not actually deserve these resources — usually starting with people of color, and extending to immigrants, people living in poverty, people with disabilities — these people who they say do not deserve the resources. And those who don't deserve the resources in their estimation are the ones who will suffer the most from it. Jesus' neighbors may have bought into their own zero-sum game. When Jesus tells them that a prophet is not accepted in their hometown — that those who know a prophet best often reject the prophetic voice and therefore miss the working of the Spirit among them — they hear him saying that the Spirit is going to skip them entirely. And they lose it. The prophet is indeed, as Jesus predicted, rejected in their hometown. Clearly, the call we have to follow the Spirit who unleashes herself among us is harder than it seems. We are called not to comfort and ease, but to commitment to love in action. We're called to go out of our safe places right to the margins, to challenge the powers that oppress and impoverish and imprison, and speak words that, if we're honest, even we may not want to hear. That's what we're called to as people of faith. This is radical. Sometimes, like Jeremiah, we want to say we just can't do it. Find someone else. Sometimes, like the people of Nazareth, we want to take the bold hometown prophet who is calling us to transform in ways that make no sense to us, and throw him off the cliff, rather than listen to another word. Sometimes, like the Corinthians, we distract ourselves by clinging to old ways of thinking, ranking ourselves and earning our place, rather than following Christ into the kin-dom work of love in action. Today, we have our annual meeting, and we reflect on the ministry that our congregation has experienced in the last year. We recognize the council who has invested all they have in leading us through the incredibly challenging time that has been 2020 and 2021. We see the creativity, energy, time, and excellence of our staff as they have reinvented their roles more than once since COVID began. We celebrate how we as a congregation, in the midst of our weariness, fear, and frustration, have followed the Spirit's lead in so many ways. We hear the call of Jesus, the call of God that came to Jeremiah, all the prophets, and to us today. We recognize that, as Jeremiah learned and as Rachel pointed out, each of us has gifts that we are called to share for the good of the world. The Spirit has been unleashed among us, and we follow that Spirit's lead, to carry the message of God's promise out of our comfortable spaces, right to the margins. God doesn't promise it will be easy — in fact, it probably won't — but God does promise to be with us all the way, and that is enough. There will always be enough. May the Spirit fill us with love that guides all we do, and embolden us to share the good news as we welcome and serve within our walls and well beyond. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2022, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Jeremiah 1:4-10, 1 Corinthians 13:1-13, Luke 4:21-30, Rachel Helton, The Sum of Us, Heather McGhee, COVID-19, coronavirus, pandemic

January 22, 2022. When was the last time you set out on a journey with only a single star for your guide? Today's sermon is about the journey of the magi and the truth revealed in Epiphany. Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6, Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14, Matthew 2:1-12 *** Transcript *** When was the last time you set out on a journey with only a single star for your guide? When I'm going somewhere I typically want to know where I'm going, how to get there, and what I should do and expect once I arrive. The idea of following a star sounds a little crazy, even terrifying. If the wise people had invited me to join them, they might have had a hard time getting me out the door. They, however, seem to have taken their mysterious journey in stride. They were likely astrologers, so it was probably not such a strange thing for them to follow the guidance of a star. When the star disappears, they stop to ask directions, and continue onward. The wise ones follow all of this, seemingly without question. Nothing else seemed to matter. From the start, logically, nothing about this journey makes any sense. A mysterious star that shines and disappears. A king with ego issues and ulterior motives. The words of scribes and chief priests who serve the king, not the greater good. The star again. And finally, a dream. No GPS, no map, and truth be told, when they set out the wise ones didn't even know where they were going. The wise ones were seeking the one who would be, as Isaiah describes, a light for all nations, a light that will guide exiles home. The psalmist tells us that this baby who will be king will bring justice for all who are poor. He will deliver those who are oppressed, have pity on the weak, redeem those caught in violence. Given this promise, nothing mattered but following the star, no matter where it led them. January 6, 2021, as I was preparing my Epiphany sermon for last year, I watched as many of you did with a mix of shock and horror as thousands of armed people climbed walls, broke windows, and entered and interrupted congressional session in what was by definition an coup. I was sickened as I heard the pain of colleagues and friends of color who know just how differently this would have turned out had the coup been led by black folks or other people of color. Epiphany tells us a story about three kings, following a star, traveling from far parts of the earth to see the radical truth of what God is up to. And once again, this year, on this first anniversary, I am hearing the story of Epiphany teaching us about truth, empire, and God's persistent and faithful guidance and work in this world. Epiphany literally means, in one definition, a sudden revelation or insight. An awareness of a truth that wasn't apparent before. I think about when I realized that I was not, and never would be, perfect — leaving me at once horrified and giddy with relief. Or when I saw my parents as actual human beings for the first time. (Yes kids, this might happen to you, too!) I think about those major national events of my lifetime that have changed forever how I see the world: the explosion of the Challenger, the attempted assassination of President Reagan, the attack on the World Trade Center, the two full years of pandemic life, and of course, the events of January 6, 2021. In her blog Journey With Jesus, Debie Thomas writes, “During this brief liturgical season between Christmas and Lent, we're invited to leave miraculous births and angel choirs behind, and seek the love, majesty, and power of God in seemingly mundane things. Rivers. Voices. Doves. Clouds. Holy hands covering ours, lowering us into the water of repentance and new life. In the gospel stories we read during this season, God parts the curtain for brief, shimmering moments, allowing us to look beneath the ordinary surfaces of our lives, and catch glimpses of the extraordinary.” Epiphany is about truth revealed, and that's not always comfortable or welcome. Because often God's truth challenges us to see things differently, to change our minds on things we thought we were certain of. And often, God's truth reveals threats to the empire, the powers and privileges that shape our world, and truth be told, make us feel safe. The three kings brought news to Herod of what they saw God doing in the world — bringing a new king — and that threatened everything Herod had. When the wise people, who Herod tried to make allies to his empire, failed to return to tell him where they could find Jesus, Herod sent his soldiers to kill all the babies to prevent this “new king” from taking power. And in our country, we have witnessed empire threatened, willing to use any means to hold onto power — even if it means, figuratively speaking, burning everything. The good news is, Herod, the empire of Jesus' time, didn't succeed in taking power. And neither, Christ Lutheran family, will the empire of today. The journey will not be easy, and we're a long ways from the end of it. But still, God is here, among us. The good news of God in Jesus Christ is that God's work in this world cannot be subverted, or prevented, or even delayed. Empire notwithstanding, God continues to guide us, sometimes in the most surprising of ways. Following the star is no simple task. For one thing, a star is not exactly a neon sign. It's so easy to get distracted from the journey. But if we take a moment to think about what the star means, we know, just as the wise ones did, that nothing else matters. We live in a broken world that is in desperate need of mercy, justice, and redemption. We need the God who came to us in Jesus, who will bring us home, and show us what's really important. We need the God who stands with those who are most impacted by poverty, oppression, and violence, and who calls us to make that a priority, above anything else. We need the God who reminds us that if one person suffers, we all suffer. Nothing else matters. We need to follow the star. God is with us on this journey, and gives us the courage and faith to take it. But God does not follow the star for us. That's our job. There's a time for waiting and watching and wondering, but this is not it. Epiphany is a time to focus, and to follow the star that leads us to Christ. Each time we take an action to bring truth and justice to our world, we're claiming the promise of the one who set that star in the sky to guide us. When we walk the road with someone who is in pain, we open our hearts to the God who promises healing and forgiveness. When we share the abundance of this world with a neighbor, we are following the star to Jesus, whose mercy will bring a day when no one will be without. When we stand against oppression, and are willing to change so that oppressive systems fall even if it's not convenient for us, we are proclaiming that there is room on the road for everyone. The wise people knew, and we know, that the star leads to hope not just for some, but for all. I still don't know for sure if I would have gone with the wise ones, if they had invited me to follow the star with them, but I hope I would have. Because the star, as hard as it may be for us as human beings to keep track of, and as scary as the unknown journey might be, reminds us that God has always been faithful, and always will be faithful, to God's promises. On our own, we would never find the way. We are not in charge of this journey. We're followers, ones who trust in God, who has never failed us. We know the mercy, justice, healing, and love of God, and we respond by taking a step in the direction the star is leading us, not knowing where we will end up. And today, some 2000 years later, the journey of the magi continues. We too follow that star. And at the end of worship today, we will ask God's blessings on the journey as this new year begins. Nothing else matters, as long as we follow the star. Amen. *** Keywords *** 2022, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Isaiah 60:1-6, Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14, Matthew 2:1-12, Journey With Jesus, Debie Thomas

We have talked about opportunities to serve and lead before, but today we dive deeper with DCE Pete Hiller. We will hear how he provides these key opportunities for young people and families in his church.  Find the LCMS Youth Ministry resource website at youthesource.com. Bio: DCE Peter Hiller serves in the area of Youth and Family Ministry at Family of Christ Lutheran in Ham Lake, MN. Yes, there is actually a lake in the city that looks like a ham. Pete is a 30 year veteran working in Youth Ministry and is passionate about engaging students in meaningful service. Pete and his DCE wife Mary have three grown daughters who also serve as educators. 

In our final Sunday meeting here at Christ Lutheran, we invite you to join us for gorgeous music, connection via our Collective Conversation, and celebrating communion. And join Pastor Kate as she shares about the practice of holding of space and hospitality, and being HOME for one another.

Direct: (412) 448-2807 Ms. Wingate-Massie is a graduate of Duquesne University where she majored in Philosophy and Communications. Since then, she has worked with numerous organizations which include: Kidsvoice, Parental Stress Center, Imani Christian Academy, Kingsley Center, Hosanna House, Christ Lutheran church, East End Cooperative Ministry, Jubilee International Ministries, Petra International Ministries, Mt Ararat Baptist Church, Covenant Church of Pittsburgh, Family Resources and A Second Chance Inc. She received extensive training in recognizing sexual abuse, understanding trauma in children, and cultural responsiveness in children. With over 20 years of experience working with children, youth and their families, she was able to present and use the curriculum she created. Ms. Wingate-Massie became a recognized expert in her role as a teacher for children ages two to 18 years of age, by assisting attorneys during juvenile dependency cases and in her advocacy work for minor clients and their parents or guardians. She also developed a vast knowledge base from her experience working with Allegheny County service providers and in the child welfare system.

A devotion offered by Don Kinney of Christ Lutheran.

A devotion offered by Jenny Campbell of Christ Lutheran.

A devotion offered by Deacon Laura Gorton of Christ Lutheran.

A devotion offered by Scott Herrig of Christ Lutheran.

May 30, 2021. What does the Trinity mean for us? Why does it matter? And perhaps most important, what do the readings for today reveal about all the ways that God shows up in our world? Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, John 3:1-17 *** Transcript *** Today is Trinity Sunday, so I kinda feel like I should probably be standing up here in front of you who are in your pews, in front of you who are in your homes, and eloquently explain the doctrine of the Trinity, perhaps even using a three-leafed clover metaphor, they way St. Patrick did centuries ago. On the surface, the idea of the Trinity seems pretty straightforward — three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. One God. Simple enough, right? The reality is that life is not that simple, and as Mr. Jesse was saying, so much change happens naturally — and then on top of that, in the last year all of the “change to the change.” (I love that phrase.) And the reality is around the Trinity, wars have been fought, and people have died, because of differences in understanding the Trinity. And yet the Trinity stands, and we confess it here at Christ Lutheran every week. In the creeds we claim the Father, the Son, and the Spirit as three persons in this Triune God. And it's one of the greatest mysteries of our faith. I'm sure you will be relieved to hear that I will not attempt to sort out two millennia of conversations, battles, arguments, and council doctrines on the Trinity today. Far more important for us, I believe, is what does the Trinity mean for us? Why does it matter? And perhaps most important, what do our readings for Trinity Sunday reveal about all the ways that God shows up in our world? Psalm 29 paints this picture of God in waves crashing on the ocean, in the flashes and booms of powerful storms, and in the silent and formidable presence of enormous trees that are centuries old. God's majesty surrounds us, overwhelms us, and although it touches us, we can't quite bear to touch it. This is God, creator of the universe, deserving of glory, before whom none of us, truth be told, are quite ready to stand. The full majesty of God makes us quake in our boots, at least a little bit. In Isaiah, we enter a vision of God called Yahweh, seated on a throne, surrounded by seraphs singing “Holy, holy, holy!” Isaiah is called into a swirl of turmoil and anxiety of a community that has just lost their king of 30 years. Talk about change! Isaiah feels completely inadequate, and it's no surprise that his first response is, “Woe is me! I am unclean, and yet I have seen the Lord!” In a miracle of grace, God prepares Isaiah, so that he can cry, “Here am I. Send me!” And God prepares not just Isaiah, but us, you and me, to go out as witnesses to this grace. Jesus, God-in-flesh, tells Nicodemus about the intimate connection between Christ in his humanity, and us in our humanity. God came to us in Christ to bring life and redemption, to embody the love and promise, and to be in relationship with us, on our terms. And in that relationship, because of the death and resurrection of Jesus, our brokenness is redeemed, and our joy is made complete. In Christ, God enters fully into our suffering, as well as our joy. God goes through all these changes that we've been talking about with us. God is with us in that. God-in-flesh embraces our grief, and shows us through the resurrection that death and loss will not be the final word. God enters our joy, and revels with us in the beauty of creation around us. Jesus-God sits with us, eats with us, laughs with us, cries with us. Because God revealed God's self to us in Jesus, we know that God is not only majesty and splendor and power, but intimately involved in our everyday life. Because God became fully human, we know that we are never alone. We have a God who understands what it means to be human. And interwoven in all of this is the Spirit, perhaps the most mysterious aspect of the Trinity. Jesus tries to explain this to Nicodemus, too. “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” The Spirit empowers us to recognize who we are as children of God, and it is only through the Spirit that we call God Abba, Father. The Spirit breathes life to dry bones in the desert, anoints and calls the apostles in fire at Pentecost, calls Jews and Gentiles alike to baptism in the days of the early church. “The wind blows where it chooses...” And as we read this passage again 2000 years later, we can perhaps be comforted by knowing that even Nicodemus, teacher though he was, didn't understand it fully. He badly wanted to understand, wanted in a way to touch Jesus, but then found that he just couldn't get there. Just as Isaiah felt overwhelmed by his experience of God, so did Nicodemus. The Trinity is complex, and it's defied definition for millennia now. So, for today, it seems enough to trust that in the Trinity, our God is all things for us — majesty and power, a fellow traveler intimately acquainted with our human experience, and one who tells us who we are and empowers us to witness to the world. And when all of these things come together in the one God, something happens that goes far beyond division of labor, each person filling their appointed role. It cannot be adequately captured in any one metaphor, although I am sure you can imagine that doesn't stop me from trying. In Quest for the Living God, Catholic feminist theologian Elizabeth Johnson describes the Trinity as three persons in a dance that never ends. She writes, “The three circling around in a mutual dynamic movement of love, God is not a static being, but a plentitude of self-giving love, a saving mystery that overflows into the world of sin and death to heal, redeem, and liberate.” Johnson presents an image of God in relationship with God's self, equal, fully grounded in love. This is the motivation for creation — God did not create the world to follow law or do God's will, but to be in loving relationship with God, with us, and with the rest of creation. And the Trinity is one of the greatest mysteries of our faith. As hard as we may try to neatly define and understand the Trinity, we discover as Nicodemus did that God will not be contained. Paul tells us that we've been given the Spirit of adoption as children of the Triune God. We are adopted into that love that overflows into our broken world. We are intimately integrated into the mysterious, creative, moving, loving, healing, inspiring, transforming Trinity. We, along with all creation, are invited to the dance, which never stops evolving as creation continues, 2000 years after Nicodemus struggled to wrap his mind around the mysteries of God. Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind blows where it chooses... and so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” We are, Paul tells us, adopted into the Trinity, and we are called to follow the Spirit where it chooses. Not to understand, not to define, certainly not to limit — for ours is a God who will not be so easily contained. We as God's beloveds are invited to enter the sacred dance, and empowered to join Isaiah in saying, “Here I am, send me!” We're children of the Triune God, and we follow the wind. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, John 3:1-17, Quest for the Living God, Elizabeth Johnson, Jesse Helton

A devotion offered by Veronica Campbell of Christ Lutheran.

A devotion offered by Mike Meinhert of Christ Lutheran.

February 17, 2021. What is truth? Tonight, as Lent begins, we ask God that question, and listen for the truth God reveals to us in scripture. Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Corinthians 6:1-10, Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21 *** Transcript *** Many years ago, when I was just getting into twelve-step work in Al-Anon, I remember being told that we are “only as sick as our secrets,” and if that's true I must have been pretty ill when I got there. I was really good at hiding things I didn’t want you to know, and especially good at hiding mistakes. I thought that the way to be okay, to be liked, to have friends, was to only let you know the good stuff. The last thing I wanted to do was let people know the truth. When the Worship Team met last month to talk about Lent and we were trying to decide on a theme, we bounced around several ideas. And then someone said, “What about 'Called to Truth?'” And we all realized that was it: truth. That thing we often want to hide. That thing we sometimes think will be our undoing. That thing that Jesus tells us in the Gospel of John will set us free. These days, it seems like there's so much misinformation, distortion, and outright lies being shared on social media and the news that the truth feels really elusive. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I was reflecting on the situation we and our country are in, and Jesus’ conversation with Pilate came to mind. Jesus tells Pilate he has come to testify to the truth, and Pilate says, “Truth? What is truth?” I found myself thinking yeah, what is truth? I'm sure I'm not the only one who has struggled with that recently. Jesus came to testify to the truth — the truth that will set us free. And so in this time of Lent, when we are called to take a step back, to reflect on our lives and our relationship with God and others, to acknowledge the sin that binds us and grow more into the people God is calling us to be, we at Christ Lutheran will lean into God’s call to truth. We will start with Pilate’s very real question: what is truth? Tonight, as Lent begins, we ask God that question, and listen for the truth God reveals to us in scripture. In all of our readings for today, we hear the truth that we have, all of us, turned away from God, in different ways at different times. We have chosen to depend on ourselves and our own power. We have taken advantage of the privileges we have in ways that have done harm to others. We have gotten lost in our attempts to seek approval from others instead of following the way of Christ. We have forgotten our call to care for God’s creation, for the earth and all that lives on it. Tonight, as Lent begins, we hear the truth of our sin and brokenness. And we also hear the truth proclaimed by the prophet Joel that while we are still lost, God is calling us to return, to seek God with our whole hearts. We hear the truth from Paul that now is the acceptable time, today is the day, and that there is always new life in Christ. Jesus tells us in Matthew that God is with us, knows all the things we hide, and calls us to trust in the love of God to lead us home. The God who sees in secret knows that we have sinned, and the God who sees in secret knows the desire we hold in our hearts to return to God. We as Lutherans know that we are sinner and saint, and this truth is revealed to us over and over in scripture. Our brokenness and sin, the truth we want to bury, is uncovered. And the call of the God who shaped us out of the earth with their hands and breathed Spirit into us, that promise of faithfulness even when we stumble, the reality of our beloved-ness, the truth that we are sometimes unable to see, is revealed. We journey these 40 days of Lent together, seeking to follow more closely Christ, who entered into our humanity to show us the ways of God. We follow Jesus of Nazareth, who came to testify to the truth. We receive ash tonight as a symbol of our brokenness and sin, and of our mortality — the truth that we came from dust and will return to dust. The ash traced on our foreheads or on our hands also reminds us of the truth of the forgiveness, faithfulness, and love promised us by the God who formed us out of the dust. Over the years, I have come to believe and know the freedom that comes from truth. Our scriptures proclaim the promise that the God who created us will never abandon us. The God who sees in secret knows everything about us, and even when we stumble, calls us home. We are called to that truth. And that is good news indeed. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Corinthians 6:1-10, Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

January 10, 2021. Pastor Meagan's sermon today is on the feast of Epiphany, and what it means for us in these days of racism and violence. Readings: Matthew 2:1-17 *** Transcript *** Today, we are celebrating the feast of the Epiphany. We are celebrating Christ with us and God leading us. I was finishing my sermon on Wednesday afternoon, January 6, when Pastor Kendra came across the hall from her office and told me to turn on the news. I watched with a mix of shock and horror as thousands of armed white people climbed walls, broke windows, and entered and interrupted congressional session in what was by clear definition an attempted coup. I have been sickened as I have heard the pain of colleagues and friends of color who know just how differently this would have turned out if the coup had been led by people of color. And so, the sermon I had written has changed, as our worship has changed, in light of what has unfolded in front of us the last few days. Epiphany tells us a story about the three kings, following the star, traveling from far parts of the earth to see what God is up to. They make a pit stop at the palace of King Herod when the star disappears, before continuing on their journey. It's a familiar story, showing us that even the kings come before Jesus to bring gifts from all corners of the earth, so that they can worship God, Emmanuel. And this is certainly an important message of this story. But what I have realized in this time more than ever is that Epiphany is teaching us about truth, and empire, and the persistence and faithfulness of God’s surprising guidance and work in this world. Epiphany literally means, in one definition, a sudden revelation or insight, an awareness of a truth that wasn’t apparent before. I think about when I realized that I was not, and never would be, perfect, a revelation that left me at once horrified and giddy with relief. Or that moment when I saw my parents as actual human beings for the first time. (Yes kids, this may happen to you too.) I think about those major national events of my lifetime that have changed forever how I see the world, like the explosion of the Challenger, the attempted assassination of President Reagan, the attack on the World Trade Center, and of course the events of January 6, 2021. Epiphany is about truth revealed, and that is not always a comfortable or welcome thing. Because often the truth God shows us challenges us to see things differently, to acknowledge issues and problems and barriers within ourselves, to change our minds on things we thought we were certain of. And often, the truths God reveals are a threat to the empire, the powers and privileges that shape our world, in some ways making us feel safe. The three kings brought news to Herod of what they saw God doing — bringing a new king into the world — that threatened everything he had. And look at what Herod did — when the wise people, who he tried to make allies to his empire, failed to return to tell him where he could find Jesus, he sent his soldiers to kill all the babies, to try to prevent this “new king” from taking his power. We don’t really know how many children were slaughtered on Herod’s orders, and he may in fact have done many worse things, but it was certainly among the worst things we can imagine empire doing. And in our country, these last months, we have empire threatened now, willing to use any means to hold onto the little power they have left — even if, we realize especially after this week, it means figuratively speaking burning everything. The good news is, Herod, the empire of Jesus’s time, didn’t succeed. And neither, Christ Lutheran family, will the empire of today. The journey will not be easy, far from it, and we are a long ways from the end of it. But still, God is here, among us. The good news of God in Jesus Christ is that God’s work in this world cannot be subverted, or prevented, or even delayed. Empire notwithstanding, God continues to guide us in the most surprising of ways. As the three wise people, these three kings, arrived in Bethlehem, they had been on the road for months, perhaps even years, as they studied the skies, following a strange convergence of stars or planets that seemed to indicate something amazing was on the horizon. They weren’t sure what would come of it all, but they did believe that whatever they found when they got there, it would be worth their trouble. We don’t know where they came from, except from “the East.” We do know, from Matthew’s telling, that they travelled together at least part of the journey, and they all ended up in the same place: a stable, not in Herod’s throne room, not in Jerusalem or any of the other large imperial cities, but in Bethlehem of all places, where a baby had been born to a poor couple who were far from home. And as surprising as the scene might have been for its seeming insignificance, the wise people somehow knew that they were exactly where they were supposed to be. There was no way to tell what would happen from there, and the journey was not over for these kings who had already traveled so far, but they had seen what they knew to be truth. Matthew tells us they resisted Herod, the empire, and continued on a different path. And God continued to lead them. We are in our own time in a moment of Epiphany. On our TV screens and laptops and newspapers on January 6th, we saw clearly the truth of the damage caused by the sins of racism, violence, individualism, and lies. We saw unfolding in real time what the empire of our day is willing to do to hold onto power. And in the days since, we have seen hope, as conflicts have been resolved (at least for now) and the immediate questions that led to Wednesday’s events have been answered. But Christ Lutheran family, just as the three kings continued their journey long after they left Bethlehem, our journey continues also. Colleagues from across the country who gathered for a January 7th Zoom meeting exhorted us to recognize that part of the challenge for us as people of faith is to see the brokenness in ourselves, as well as in the world. We as Lutherans know we are sinner and saint, and we have all benefited from, and contributed to, the broken systems of racism, poverty, oppression, and division that have led us to this moment in our history. The full truth that is being revealed in our Epiphany must be heard and embraced, before healing can begin. We as people of faith know that God is present and at work. God is even now guiding us to leave behind the empire of our day, to renounce systems and powers warped by racism and greed and untruth, and follow where God is leading us by another path, guided by truth, justice, grace, and love, as frightening or unfamiliar or surprising as it might be. We have been on a journey of our own this last year, haven’t we? We were just beginning to get to know each other when the pandemic came and so much of what we had planned, and what was familiar to us, was necessarily changed. In our own lives and homes, we have made countless decisions about how to keep ourselves and our families safe, navigated new ways of working and studying in person or online, watched and prayed for family members who were ill, cancelled and changed plans for holidays and vacations, said goodbye to loved ones who died, and welcomed new life. We have grieved countless losses and celebrated joys of all sizes. We have been tired, lonely, anxious, giddy, grateful, and so many other things. So much has happened, and we have traveled so far in the year that seemed to go on forever. And God has been with us through it all. Guiding us, as the star guided the three kings. Giving us hope. Bringing us together, as our Isaiah reading says, from all corners of the world, even if it is over Zoom. God has shown us that new life comes out of death in Christ’s resurrection, even in a pandemic. That we can share the abundance of God’s table in communion, each from our own homes. That prayer can cross oceans in ways that seem tangible. That simple things like a bag of groceries, Advent gifts, Christmas lights, sidewalk chalk messages, phone calls and emails and notes, can mean more than we ever knew before. So in the midst of the sometimes frightening and ugly truths we are faced with, we know we can trust that God is with us now. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned the words to “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” which we will sing in a minute, in the midst of the Civil War when his son had just died, offering profound witness to this truth. The journey of the wise men, the revelation they experienced, their courage in defying Herod, and God’s faithfulness in guiding them through the unknown teaches us this. God is here, showing us truths we need to see, leading us away from brokenness and death, and guiding us on a new way home. Where have you seen the star, this last year? What truths have you learned, about yourself and the world? What signs have you seen of God’s transforming, creative, life-giving, abundant love, in this community, your families, our world? And where is God leading you, and us of Christ Lutheran, next? Amen. *** Keywords *** 2021, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Matthew 2:1-17

View the Funeral Bulletin for Peter FisherService Time: 10:00 a.m. Friday, January 22, 2021First Reading – Isaiah 25:6-9 On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the LORD has spoken. It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” Second Reading – Romans 6:3-9 Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.Gospel Reading – Luke 2:25-32 Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”Obituary Peter Robert Fisher, 82, of Pittsburgh, PA died at home on Wednesday, January 20. Despite his struggles with cancer in the past 14 months he remained a caring man of faith, generosity, persistent patience, and deep love for his God, family and friends. Peter was born in New Eagle, PA on 23 March 1938 to David Curl and Ellen Marie (Brady) Fisher. The oldest of four, he is survived by Theresa Mae Fisher, Jonathan David Fisher both of Pittsburgh, and Mary Ellen (Fisher) Landon (Jerry Forderhase) of NYC. Peter graduated from Greensburg High School and Carnegie-Mellon University, with a degree in Electrical Engineering. It was at CMU that he met his loving wife of almost 60 years Barbara Anna (Grau). He is also survived by his children Kirk Peter (Sondra Vernau) and Kirsten Laurel Fisher-Price (Allen Price), grandchildren, Jocelyn Nicole Fisher, Patrick Uriah Fisher, Ethan Robert Fisher and niece, Brady Michelle Landon-Forderhase. While he was a man of many talents and accomplishments, the overarching trajectory of Peter’s life is that of a designer. As a younger man, he professionally managed the design of transformers for McGraw Edison, while at home he designed and made furniture. His love for design and craft manifested itself in everything he did including: wooden boxes, metal buttons, jewelry, poems and stories. He worked with widely varied groups of people, professionally: Board member of Concordia Lutheran Ministries, liaison for The Ben Franklin Partnership, mentor for CMU management game undergraduates. And, also, designed meetings of minds and conversations, personally: creating a Saturday breakfast Bible study group, forming the ROMEOs (retired old men eating out), President of Christ Lutheran, an elder for two congregations. Everyone, whether family, friend or co-worker, experienced his pleasure in sharing unique ideas. He and Barbara traveled with a mutual desire to soak in art, culture and cuisine of domestic and European places. In his middle age, Peter bought his sports car and enjoyed many subsequent excursions with Barbara and the West Penn Miata Club. He also designed a tenet with which he would strive to live out the rest of his life: “God, family and friends” in that order. And to be with the Saints when they come marching in. We will miss him and look forward to that day. Memorial gifts can be sent to Zion Lutheran Church, 3197 Washington Pike, Bridgeville, PA 15017, or Good Samaritan Hospice, 116 Browns Hill Road, Suite 100, Valencia, PA 16059

December 20, 2020. Have you ever had a moment when you realized that your whole life was changing, that something was emerging that you couldn’t quite see yet? This year, of all years, we really need to know that there is something much bigger than us going on, that there is order in this chaos that we are living. Readings: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16, Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26, Luke 1:26-56 *** Transcript *** Have you ever had a moment when you realized that your whole life was changing, that something was emerging that you couldn’t quite see yet? I can think of several times when I knew that transformation and mystery was happening — and fear, even terror. When I first said out loud that I was gay. When I moved into my first apartment, living on my own for the first time. When I made the decision to leave my job of nine years and go back to school full time. And when I got the phone call from the Call Committee here at Christ Lutheran, one Sunday morning just about a year ago. My pastor at my home congregation describes me as having a look of shock and wonder and disbelief as I shared the news with her a year ago. I'm not much of an astronomer, but my wife knows enough to be able to point out Mars and Venus and Jupiter in the sky at night, and I can usually spot them when she does. And I do enjoy looking at the stars, even if I can’t find any constellation besides the Big Dipper. There is something about the stars that, like the ocean, takes me out of the minutiae of my daily life, and reminds me just how big this world is, and just how small I am. The wise people knew far more about the night sky than I do. And although Jesus hadn’t been born yet, and they had no idea what it meant, they knew because of what they saw that something was up. The wise people probably didn’t suddenly see the star after Jesus’ birth, and begin their journey after he had been born. They had been watching the sky for years, and the unique star that they saw probably caught their eyes months prior to that sacred night in the stable in Bethlehem. And when they saw it, they knew that the world was about to change. They knew that something was about to happen that was worth traveling for days or weeks or months, worth lying to King Herod, worth giving up their treasure for. And soon, the wise people will be greeting a child whose birth was revealed to them by the stars they watched at night — the child whose birth, as insignificant as it might have seemed, would change everything. Jesus hasn’t been born yet, but the wise people already see it coming. They are living, as we Lutherans do, in a world that is, and is not yet. Mary sang of it in our gospel today, and in our opening hymn from Holden. After hearing from the angel what was going to happen and traveling to see Elizabeth. Mary’s song is really quite remarkable, as Debie Thomas points out in her blog this week. The angel brought Mary news that would shake any unmarried teenager — she is pregnant, with no good way to explain how that happened, and by tradition and law could be easily punished, beaten, ostracized, even killed. And yet, when she greets Elizabeth, her first words are ones of deep joy: “My spirit rejoices in God.” I can only imagine that her journey to Elizabeth must have been quite a wrestling — with herself, with God, reconciling and trying to understand what has just happened to her. Mary goes on to say that God has seen her in her humanness — poor; female in a world that didn’t value women; living in a brutal, occupied land; young, not yet married. God saw her just as she was, and was mindful of her. Somehow, out of all the people in the world, out of all the people in Nazareth, God saw and knew Mary intimately. And he was mindful of her. Then Mary the prophet, who was living in a broken world, full of injustice and hunger and poverty, saw and claimed the vision of God’s promise already at work. God has not only seen Mary, but all who are on the edge, as the hungry are filled and the marginalized and forgotten and abused ones are lifted up. The strong and the powerful, it seems, are already taken care of in this world, so God is especially mindful of those who have been pushed aside. And in the middle of the world still bound with injustice and pain, Mary sang of the world she knew God was bringing into being. “He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” As Mary sings, she echoes the faith and the hope of many who came before her — Hannah, and Hagar, and the psalmist, and all the prophets, who proclaimed the hope and promise that is now, but not quite yet. Jesus hasn’t been born yet, but the wise people are on their way, following signs in the world our God created that pointed to things much bigger than themselves. And this year of all years, a year of pandemics and fires and elections and racial tensions, so much chaos, we really need to know that there is something much bigger than us going on, that there is order in this chaos that we are living. And in our time, that transformation that Mary speaks of, that the wise people saw coming, continues. Christmas isn’t here yet, but we know Christ is coming. And our world is in just as much need of transformation, healing, and re-creation, as the world the wise people traveled 2000 years ago. The prophets of today are claiming the promise anew, like Kelly Brown Douglas claiming that God is freedom, William Barber II declaring that people on the margins are seeking transformation and justice and healing and not a return to a disparate normal, Valarie Kauer’s revelation that the chaos we are living in is the darkness of the womb, not the darkness of the tomb, and that it will bring new life and not death. Jupiter and Saturn are close to aligning, and tomorrow they will come together to show us a sign. Astronomers today think that what we will be seeing in the sky if we venture out tomorrow evening after sunset is perhaps the same sign the wise ones saw so many years ago, the star that gave a glimpse of the promises of God to come that led the wise people to Bethlehem. The very same star that showed them that something new, something world-changing, was about to happen. In this time of COVID-19, as we have stayed away from our church building for a time, we have learned what Nathan tried to tell David so long ago — God is building a house, has been building it for millennia, a house not of brick and mortar but of people, of us. And Christ Lutheran family, God is still building us up, inspiring us, breathing new life, healing, and transformation into this broken world. We can look to the skies as the wise people did, and know that Christ is coming. We have just a few days left — I bet some of the kids could tell us even how many hours we have left — and in this moment we join all the people who for millennia have been claiming and proclaiming the promise. This was not a one-time event that happened 2000 years ago and was complete, but a movement of the Spirit of God that began with creation and continues on today. We are not alone. We can see the star, hear the words of the angel Gabriel, and know that something new is happening. With the prophets of yesterday and today, we can embrace all the change and fear and grief and wonder that that brings. And then, we can join Mary in joy, promise, and hope, and sing with her as our spirits rejoice in the promise coming to us in Christ. Thanks be to God. *** Keywords *** 2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16, Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26, Luke 1:26-56, COVID-19, coronavirus

Theo Kavouras is cantor of Christ Lutheran Church in Cleveland, Ohio. Christ Lutheran's website: https://www.christlutherancleveland.org (https://www.christlutherancleveland.org)/ Theo's recommended things to check out: Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: https://www.rockhall.com (https://www.rockhall.com)/ Great Lakes Science Center: https://greatscience.com (https://greatscience.com)/ Cedar Point, amusement park: https://www.cedarpoint.com (https://www.cedarpoint.com)/ Cleveland Museum of Art: https://www.clevelandart.org (https://www.clevelandart.org)/ Cleveland Symphony: https://www.clevelandorchestra.com (https://www.clevelandorchestra.com)/ Trinity Lutheran Church's Organ: http://www.clevelandbeckerath.org/organ.html (http://www.clevelandbeckerath.org/organ.html) Edison Pizza Kitchen: https://www.facebook.com/edisonspizzakitchen (https://www.facebook.com/edisonspizzakitchen)/ Great Lakes Brewery: https://www.greatlakesbrewing.com (https://www.greatlakesbrewing.com)/ Lake View Cemetery: https://lakeviewcemetery.com (https://lakeviewcemetery.com)/ Theo's blog and snarky merchandise: https://snarkylutheran.com (https://snarkylutheran.com)/ This episode's sponsor is Ad Crucem. They make beautiful, robustly Lutheran cards, gifts, Christmas Ornaments and Art. Get prepared for Christmas and check them out at https://adcrucem.com (https://adcrucem.com) If you enjoy the show, please take a moment to rate and review the show on iTunes so that more people will see and listen!

Pastor Matthew Nix is pastor of Christ Lutheran in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Christ Lutheran's website: https://www.christsiouxfalls.org/ (https://www.christsiouxfalls.org/) Pastor Nix's recommended things to check out: Sioux Falls (the namesake waterfall): https://www.siouxfalls.org/parks/parks/locations/falls-park (https://www.siouxfalls.org/parks/parks/locations/falls-park) Great Bear Ski Valley: https://www.greatbearpark.com/ (https://www.greatbearpark.com/) Bike trails in Sioux Falls Grille 26: https://www.grille26.com/ (https://www.grille26.com/) Minerva's: https://www.minervas.net/minervas-sioux-falls/ (https://www.minervas.net/minervas-sioux-falls/) Macenzie River Pizza: https://www.mackenzieriverpizza.com/mackenzie-river-pizza-grill-pub-sioux-falls/ (https://www.mackenzieriverpizza.com/mackenzie-river-pizza-grill-pub-sioux-falls/) Today's sponsor is Audible, go to https://LutheranCartographer.com/audible (https://LutheranCartographer.com/audible) for a free audio book and to try out Audible. If you enjoy the show, please take a moment to rate and review the show on iTunes so that more people will see and listen!

August 30, 2020. When Moses sees the burning bush and hears the voice of God, he is told to remove the sandals from his feet, for the place on which he is standing is holy ground. Today, God is calling us too. And Pastor Meagan reminds us that, like Moses, we too are standing on holy ground. Readings: Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28, Exodus 3:1-15 *** Transcript *** In case you haven't already figured it out from the children's sermon, I love going barefoot. The first thing I do when I enter my house is I take off my shoes and socks, so I can free my feet to feel the hardwood floor as I walk. And when we bring the cats out in the backyard, I go barefoot unless the wood and stone are hot enough to burn my feet. I love feeling all the different textures — the smooth wood of the deck and stairs, the knobbly cement and stone of the patio, the tickly grass between my toes, and the air and sun playing on them as we sit. There's something really grounding for me about going barefoot. It helps me to feel connected somehow, to the world around me and to the god who created it all. And being grounded, I can be ready to start a new thing: ready to learn, ready for things like Sunday School and Confirmation and Adult Forums to begin for the year. Ready perhaps to hear God, like Moses did. We all know Moses’ story. He was a Hebrew, and he should have been murdered by the midwives, because Pharaoh had ordered them to murder all the Egyptian boys. But they saved him. Because those midwives, Shifra and Puah, they didn’t follow the law of Pharaoh. They followed the law of God. So Moses lived, and was taken in to be raised in Pharaoh’s house, as an Egyptian. For some years he doesn’t realize who he is, and when he does, he can’t take the pain of his people. In a moment of anger and grief, as he witnesses yet another injustice, he murders an overseer and then runs for his life. In one sense, Moses creates a great life for himself. He finds community, he marries, he tends his father-in-law’s animals. But in another sense, Moses has lost a great deal. He is cut off from his people, and his history. Even God. Then Moses sees the flame in the bush and he hears the voice, “Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground!” He takes off his shoes, and he walks closer to the bush, and he is grounded again. God reminds Moses of who he is, and who his people are. God tells Moses who God is: I am. The one who has always been, the God of all Moses’ ancestors, the one who created all things, the one who is in that moment alive and present in the flame in the bush in front of Moses. Not just I was, or I will be, but I am. And God tells Moses that he hears the cries of the Hebrew people, of Moses’ people, and that he always has. Moses couldn’t bear the pain, but God can, and does. And he calls Moses to return, promising to be with him, to give him the words he needs to speak, to claim God’s justice for his people. In spite of his fear, his uncertainty about his abilities to take on this task, perhaps his shame about how he'd failed before, Moses goes. Not just I was, or I will be, but I am. Throughout history, God has always heard God’s people. God heard the Hebrew people. God heard the cries of Rizpah: the sons she had with King Saul had been murdered, and she stood watch mourning and wailing for months until they were buried. Mary, Jesus’ mother, claims that God has heard her, and not only her, but the cries of all who suffer. Not just I was, or I will be, but I am. In Stand Your Ground, the book about the history and pain of white exceptionalism and faith that a group of us at Christ Lutheran are reading together, author Kelly Brown Douglas writes, “In telling his poignant story of life in a concentration camp during the Jewish Holocaust, Eli Wiesel recalls ‘a most horrible day, even among all of those other bad days,’ when he witnessed the hanging of a child . . . . Wiesel heard a man cry out, ‘For God’s sake, where is God?’ To that question, Wiesel said a voice inside him answered, ‘Hanging from this gallows.’ ” And this, as Moses learns, is where God always is, when people are in pain. God hears the cries of all of those wounded by the systemic racism in our communities. God heard the cries of Emmett Till, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and just this week in Kenosha, Wisconsin, Jacob Blake, who was severely injured in a shooting. God heard the cries of several others who were shot by a white supremacist while calling for justice in Kenosha. God heard the cries of the more than 180,000 who have died from COVID-19 now, and he hears the grief of those who loved them, and those who are still struggling to recover from being ill. God hears the cries of those who have lost loved ones, and homes, and jobs, to the devastating wildfires in California. God hears the pain of those recovering from the destruction of the storms in Iowa, and the catastrophic hurricanes that have borne down on communities in the Gulf. God hears the cries of all the officers in the police and military, who face daily the pain and struggle of our community. God hears the cries of those who are unemployed, or not paid adequately, who can't feed and clothe and house themselves and their children. God hears the anguish of those living with mental illness and addiction, isolation and loneliness, and the despair of their families. And then, family of faith, God sends us. But not without preparing us for the work ahead. God teaches us who God is — the god who is always present, the god who hears people's cry. God teaches us how to live in community. Moses is sent with Aaron, and we are sent with one another. Paul, in the letter to the Romans today, talks about persevering in faith when our life together is hard, and loving our enemies in concrete ways, making room for God to be God in our lives and in the world. And as we see with Peter today in our gospel from Matthew, knowing that we will make mistakes, God continues to teach us. God reminds us that no matter what, above any nation, state, or flag, it is God who made and sustains us, our faith in God that guides us, and Christ whom we follow. As people of faith, every year we come together for Sunday School, Confirmation, Adult Forums, Bible Studies, so we continue to ground ourselves and learn more about our God. Hearing Moses’ story reminds me that we, like Moses, are standing on holy ground. God is calling to us too, and is right in front of us. Taking off my shoes, reading passages of scripture, lighting a candle, can all help me to remember that I am on holy ground. How do you “holy ground” yourself, so that you can hear God’s voice? *** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28, Exodus 3:1-15, Whirl Story Bible, coronavirus, pandemic

August 9, 2020. Elijah, and Jesus' disciples, were all beset by “storms” at different times in today’s readings. And surrounded by all the chaos in the world today, we may feel that we've been blown off course and are lost. But Pastor Meagan preaches today on the comfort that comes from knowing that the storms of life are nothing new to God.Readings: 1 Kings 19:9-18, Matthew 14:22-33*** Transcript *** 2020 is bringing us some pretty mighty storms so far, isn’t it? The initial onset of the pandemic, uprisings around racism, economic uncertainty, political upheaval, the resurgence of the virus that we're seeing right now. Christ Lutheran family, we started out this year, and our ministry together way back in the end of February, thinking that we were headed in one direction. It seems the next thing we knew, we were blown so far off course that we aren’t even sure where we are anymore sometimes! So it's quite comforting, isn’t it, to know that the storms of life are nothing new to God. The disciples, and Elijah, were all beset by “storms” at different times in today’s readings. Elijah has been chased, run out of town by Jezebel’s threats to his life. Many, although not all, of his fellow prophets had lost their lives, and Elijah is exhausted, afraid, despairing. He finds a cave to hide in, and he has no idea what to do next. And even if he did, he doesn't have the energy to do it. And the disciples, having been sent out in a boat to cross the lake ahead of Jesus, encounter a storm. And they are trapped on the lake in the boat, wondering if they will survive. And into this chaos, God appears. A few weeks ago at Pentecost, with the Holy Spirit appearing in wind and fire, enabling the disciples to speak in languages they had never learned, empowering them to boldly and publicly speak truth when they had been hiding from the authorities for days, I reflected that sometimes God comes to wake us up! To shake us from our complacency, to bring us out of our comfortable places, leading us to share God’s justice and mercy and love with the world. And sometimes, like today, God comes to heal, to feed, to calm, and then equip us to go out again. As he fled from Jezebel an angel came to Elijah, offered him food and water and rest, and then left. And the angel returned, to offer more food and water and rest, and left again. And then the angel returned to bring Elijah to the cave, where our reading today starts. And God appears. I picture the disciples, buffeted and tossed by the wind and the rain in an open boat, holding onto each other and the sides of the boat trying their best to not fall out, and to keep the boat balanced, perhaps struggling to figure out what direction they should be heading, if they can manage to direct the boat at all. And then, they see what they think at first is a ghost — until Jesus tells them it’s him. Most of the disciples stay in the boat, still holding on, perhaps gaping in disbelief at the figure that's coming towards them on the water. Peter, in classic Peter fashion, jumps out of the boat into the water and begins to walk toward Jesus, wanting to see for himself if it’s really him. And Jesus has to remind him, once again, that Jesus is God and Peter is not — Peter will not stay afloat without Jesus. So, where are you today? Are you with Elijah, laying in the cave, resting, feeling completely alone in the chaos and grief and the danger, trying to recover and make sense of what has happened and decide what to do next? Are you with the disciples in the boat, struggling to hold on while the storm continues to rage all around you? Are you Peter, leaping out of the boat into the chaotic waters, making your way toward Jesus? Wherever you are right now, it is comforting to know that the storms of life are nothing new to God. Elijah feels so alone, as we often may in these situations, and yet we can see from the outside that he is not alone. The angel offers such practical guidance for Elijah, and for us. Eat. Drink. Rest. Repeat. I remember a time some years ago when I was at a really low point in my life, wracked by fear and anxiety, struggling at times to do even basic things, and a friend gave me this exact advice. Eat. Drink. Rest. Repeat. This is sacred direction, family of faith, if you are exhausted. Jesus himself sought time to rest and reconnect with God often in the gospels. And he does again at the beginning of today’s gospel. The disciples in the boat probably felt abandoned by God too, with Jesus off who knows where while they fought for their lives in the storm. And yet, they were not as alone as they thought. Jesus is with them, in the storm, ghostly as he may look. In the middle of the storm, God is with us. In that low point of my life, through the voice of my friends and the presence of the Spirit in silence, God was with me, bringing healing and new life and peace. When we are exhausted, and feel afraid, alone, and even abandoned, God is there. Where are you seeing God, in the midst of the storms you are living in, right now? Is God in the sheer silence, as you rest and seek God? Is God off the port bow, almost glowing as they make their ghostly way through the chaos toward you? Is God in the boat, holding you safely as you ride out the storm together? Are you struggling through the storm, trying to stay afloat on the water, wondering if God is actually there? It is comforting to know that the storms of life are not new to God. And when we have had food, water, and rest, God reminds us that we're not alone. God made the earth, the sea, the sky, light and dark and everything in between, all the animals, the birds, plants, trees, and each one of us, bringing creation of out unformed chaos. And even in the midst of the sometimes chaotic life around us, God is present, continuing to bring life and make a way through the storm. Elijah felt alone, but God sent Elisha, and the 7,000, so they could walk together in faith, claiming the goodness of God. And the disciples had one another, and they had Jesus, as they made their way through the storm. In the middle of the chaos, God is with us, preparing us to go back out again, sharing the good news that God can handle the pandemic, and racial injustice, and political upheaval, and economic uncertainty, and loneliness, and fear, and anxiety. As we continue our ministry together, Christ Lutheran family, we may not know yet what the coming months will bring, but we can trust in the promise that God is with us. Your Council is reflecting on where we are and where God is calling us, and we invite you to do so too. Like Elijah, we hear God in the sheer silence. Like the disciples, we see Jesus navigating the stormy water in front of us, and claim the good news that God has not abandoned us. We eat, drink, rest, and continue the journey, until everyone knows. The storms of life are not new to God. And with God, we have nothing to fear. Thanks be to God! *** Keywords *** 2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, YouTube, video, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, 1 Kings 19:9-18, Matthew 14:22-33, coronavirus, COVID-19

July 12, 2020. In the sermon today, we remember those who have recently passed away — and how they, like the sower in Jesus' parable, sowed the seeds of faith in this community.Readings: Romans 8:1-11, Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23*** Transcript ***Many years ago, I was on the phone with the Office Manager from my childhood church, when I heard the extension in my parents’ house pick up. After listening for just a few seconds, my brother exclaimed, “Joanne O’Neill!” It had only taken a couple of words from my conversation partner for him to recognize her voice, though it had been several years since they had spoken. My brother, back in his church grade school days, had been quite a troublemaker, and for whatever reason the kids who fell into that category often ended up spending a lot of time with the feisty, energetic, short, white-haired administrator. And she didn’t mind it one bit. She made quite an impression on my brother and his friends, and they on her.Some of the teachers, I know, felt like it was pretty hopeless, not worth the effort on a group of kids that seemed intent on just stirring up chaos, having a good laugh, showing no interest in their grade school days — in anything that the teachers might have to teach them. Joanne O’Neill saw it differently. Perhaps she saw something of herself in their rambunctious rebelliousness. Joanne took the time to sow seed into these unlikely fields, planting seeds of hope and watering them faithfully. She made sure that they knew that she, at least, delighted in them.And I remember Gail Merrill, our neighbor from across the street, showing that same delight in me, an eccentric kid, who always did everything “right” (or at least I tried!), but always seemed to fall a bit outside that circle that defined the “in-crowd.” In the world of “Cheers,” a little more like pedantic Cliff, than I was like cool Sam.Coming alongside our parents, who loved and nurtured and cared for us, Gail and Joanne, and many others over the years, sowed seed and tended soil, creating a space for my brothers and me to grow and become the people God created us to be. And we all need that, don’t we? Soil in which we can set down roots. Seeds planted in us, that can bear fruit.Vic, and Gloria, and Gwen, all of whom were laid to rest this week, sowed so much seed into this life. Love for family, sharp wit, passion for traveling, heart for teaching wisdom and knowledge, and a commitment for sharing God’s abundance with everyone. They all embodied the joy of their faith. They were all, in their unique ways, sowers of faith in their families, their communities, and their worlds. Vic, Gloria, and Gwen all sowed seed into this community of faith, and Luther Memorial before it, helping to form and nurture a place where we who are gathered today, and all those who will come, can grow.A Twin Cities Lakota elder, Jim Bear Jacobs, shared with a group of United Theological seminarians that Lakota tradition tells us that our stories are rooted in place, and not in time. As I shared last evening, according to that tradition the valley below Fort Snelling, on the banks of the Mississippi River in St. Paul, is the birthplace of creation, a sort of Garden of Eden. It is also the birthplace of many Lakota people whose mothers travelled days and weeks to get to that place so their children could be born there. You can feel it, when you walk there — no matter how much time passes, their stories and the story of creation itself are alive there in that sacred place.And in this sacred place, in the gathered community of the Christ Lutheran family, for over a century, we have heard the Word of God, and broken bread, and shared the Eucharist together. Through the Eucharist, the body and blood of Jesus, we live in Jesus, and Jesus lives in us, and because of that, we all live forever. This is a sacred place. The stories of Vic, Gloria, and Gwen are rooted in this place now. No matter how much time passes, their stories are alive here, along with the stories of all who have been here, all who are here now, and all of those yet to come.We are human, as Paul reminds us so pointedly, and it's easy for us to get caught up in what Paul refers to as the “flesh” — to be distracted and focused on what is best for us at the expense of our neighbors, security that comes from our own efforts, messages that tell us that God’s abundance is not enough for everyone, the voice inside us that says maybe we aren’t worthy of love after all — the sinfulness of disconnection, and judgement, and fear that cuts us off from the life-giving soil of God’s creation, God’s Spirit.We enter into sacred places, those places where we are tended and fed, and we in our turn feed and tend to the unique lives around us, and we're connected to the Spirit that gives us life. And then, like the sower in Jesus’ parable today, we sow more seed. We will not do it alone, and we will make mistakes, because we're human, and it’s not about being perfect, after all. It’s about creating places where stories can be shared, and songs can be sung, and the will of God can be revealed, where God's spirit can give life. Sacred places, that honor and give birth to life.Some years later, when Joanne passed away, I remember calling my brother and saying to him, “All of the adults are dying! Who is going to be the grown up now?” And then realizing, that was us! And it is on us, as it has always been, to continue to tend the fields. And sow more seed. Tend, sow, rest, repeat.We don’t need to worry about whether the soil is right, or what will happen after the seed is sown. Because what happens to that seed isn't up to us. It's up to God. We may sow, but God is constantly tending, tilling, and preparing all of creation — including each one of us — to receive the promise, and let it flourish. We never know where the seed we sow might grow.Archbishop Oscar Romero offers us a reflection to sow on:"It helps, now and then, to step back and take the long view.The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.No statement says all that could be said.No prayer fully expresses our faith.No confession brings perfection.No pastoral visit brings wholeness.No program accomplishes the Church's mission.No set of goals and objectives includes everything.This is what we are about.We plant the seeds that one day will grow.We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.We lay foundations that will need future development.We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.That enables us to do something, and do it well.It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.We are prophets of a future not our own."Thanks be to God*** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Romans 8:1-11, Matthew 13:1-9, Matthew 13:18-23, Vic Saeger, Gloria Richardson, Gwen Hickman

June 14, 2020. Pastor Meagan reflects on Jesus commissioning his disciples to carry the gospel to all the corners of the earth, and how in the wake of George Floyd, our call is to go out and tell the good news: that freedom is for all people.Readings: Exodus 19:2-8a, Matthew 9:35-10:8 [9-23], Ephesians 2:14*** Transcript ***On the surface, our gospel story today seems pretty simple. Jesus sees, with compassion, the need for people to hear the good news of God’s love and healing and guidance. And he commissioned people — his disciples — to walk alongside him, to carry the gospel to all the corners of the earth. Jesus prepared them for their work: giving them power to heal, to cleanse, even to bring life where there was death. And out they went, 2000 years ago, to carry out Jesus’ call. Simple, right?On the surface, the end of slavery with the Emancipation Proclamation also seems pretty simple. Millions of people, children of God, had been kept in chains, abused, worked and sold for profit, treated for generations more like animals than human beings. And then, on January 1st of 1863, President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation — and the slaves, at least legally speaking, were released from their chains, and everything changed. After centuries of bondage, the people of African descent were free. An announcement was made, and slavery was over.When we look closer, neither the story of Jesus sending out his disciples, nor the story of the freeing of millions of people who had lived in slavery, is as simple as it seems. Both stories warrant a little attention, especially this week. June 17th, we remember the anniversary of the execution of nine black people in Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina, by a young white supremacist. The shooter was born, raised, Confirmed, and communed in the ELCA — which is to this day the whitest denomination in the country. From all of these stories we learn that freedom, healing, and transformation are not simple, one-time, individual events, but communal experiences of growth and change that can take years and even generations to be fully realized.When the Emancipation Proclamation was issued, it certainly meant the end of legal slavery. But it was far from the end of the story. For those living in chains, and for those whose whole lives had been formed in a world built on the institution of slavery, this declaration of freedom turned upside down the only world any of them ever knew. It required transformation at almost every level — financial, social, practical, physical, political — for everyone in the nation. The change would take generations. It certainly started with the signing of the Proclamation over 150 years ago, but what many of us don’t realize is that it would be two-and-a-half years before the last of the slaves even knew of its passing. On June 19th, 1965, the Union Army finally reached Galveston, Texas, where the first order of business was to read the Emancipation Proclamation to the people of God still living in slavery there. In the midst of the wide-ranging reactions to the news, celebrations broke out — which are continued today, each June 19th, in a celebration known as Juneteenth.The signing of the Emancipation Proclamation was only the beginning. The bringing of the good news to Galveston on Juneteenth was another step in that process. In order for freedom to come, the word needed to be spread. And that transformation continues. If we think about the events of the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s that took place only about 60 years ago, and remember the nine lives lost to white supremacy at Emanuel AME just 5 years ago, June 17th, and today watch the evening news and hear the grief and pain and fear and yes, even the rage of our black siblings in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, we know there is still work for all of us to do in our nation, to fully live into and embrace the good news that started with the Emancipation Proclamation. At George Floyd’s funeral, Reverend Al Sharpton called us to continue that work: “What happened to Floyd,” he said, “happens every day in this country, in education, in health services, and in every area of American life. It’s time for us to stand up in George’s name and say, 'Get your knee off our necks.' The reason why we are marching all over the world is we were like George: we couldn’t breathe, not because there was something wrong with our lungs, but because you wouldn’t take your knee off our neck.” So much pain. And such a hard word of truth.When Jesus looked at the world around him, he knew, as we know today, that his world was hurting. Illness, death, division, poverty, and hunger. And he sent out the disciples, out of compassion, into this hurting world, to bring the good word. Not an empty word, but a word of promises made and kept, here and now. Healing. Life. Cleansing. And freedom. Jesus does not promise that the journey will be easy. He tells the disciples they are being sent out as sheep among wolves. He warns them they will face rejection. He invites them to let go of what they know, what makes them comfortable and secure.I don’t know about you, but I know how easy it has been, for much of my life, for me to rest in a place of familiarity and comfort, oblivious to the suffering of my black siblings. As I have heard the stories over time of the experiences of my black classmates and colleagues and friends that they have had in classrooms, and workplaces, and doctor’s offices, and shopping malls, I have slowly been drawn out of my complacency, to understand that the world as I see or experience it has been designed to help me, as a white person, feel safe and comfortable. The murder of George Floyd is an act of such obvious and cruel racist violence that it has awakened the whole world it seems, to the oppression and fear that has existed for centuries. I have been awakened to the ways in which I have been complicit in this reality, simply because I haven't seen it. As the call to carry the good news continues today, as we are called to proclaim healing and freedom, we like the disciples face a daunting task. We too are asked to let go of what we know, and what makes us comfortable and secure, as we acknowledge the truths of the woundedness of this world that we have been taught not to see. We are asked to confront the ways in which we have, all of us, been formed in a culture that is tainted with racism and white supremacy. And we're called to actively work to dismantle those lies, within ourselves, and in the world around us. And when we fail to do this, we allow the suffering to continue unchecked.Austin Channing Brown, a speaker and writer who is providing incredible leadership on racial justice, wrote this week, “I received an e-mail . . . . from [someone] who wants to know how she can support racial justice but without risk. And I’m sorry to share, it’s not possible. To be antiracist is to be active. It’s to resist the status quo. It’s raising your voice and making noise. It’s protesting and declaring things must change. It’s challenging supervisors and boards and executive teams and donors. Choosing antiracism is often choosing to be a nuisance.”The good news in all this: Jesus does not send the disciples, or us, out empty-handed. The disciples didn't start out ready to follow the call. Jesus equipped them, and equips us, for this mission, giving us the capacity to do what we are called to do. This week, as we remember at once the experience of the slaves in Galveston, Texas as they learned of their freedom over 150 year ago, the tragedy of the death of 9 black people at the hands of a white supremacist just 5 years ago, and the death of George Floyd and so many others in recent days, the call and commission Jesus gives to his disciples is for us too.The call is clear: go out, and tell the good news. Claim the promise that freedom is for all people. The Central States Synod Council, when they met last week via Zoom, wrote the following: “Our relationship to the shooter [of the Emmanuel 9], as well as to two of the slain, reminds us of both our complicity and our calling. Together we confess that we're in bondage to the sins of racism and white supremacy and, at the same time, we rejoice in the freedom that is ours in Christ Jesus who 'has broken down the dividing walls, that is, the hostility between us' (Ephesians 2:14). May God continue to guide us as we seek repentance and renewal, and racial justice and reconciliation among God’s precious children.” There is so much work to do, family of faith, it can feel overwhelming. And just when we think we have arrived, we will make mistakes, and will find out how much more we have to learn. But we don't go alone, and we start right where we are.When asked what people should do to move forward from where we find ourselves, Reverend Angela Khabeb of Holy Trinity Lutheran in Minneapolis said to a reporter last week, “Dismantle white supremacy in our congregations and in our hearts. For each congregation, that process may begin in a different place. Wherever you’re starting, you’ve got the world at your fingertips.” There are so many ways to make a difference. Vote, and help others register to vote. Watch the movie "13th" or "Just Mercy" to learn about our criminal justice system. Read a book such as So You Want to Talk About Race, by Ijeoma Oluo. Join a book study or other group committed to learning about racism — we are starting a group at Christ Lutheran soon. As the people said to Moses, when he shared God’s direction with them in the first reading today, “Everything the Lord has spoken, we will do.” We will do it, together.This is such hard work, family of faith. And the call to bring the message of God’s love to the world will never be completed. We will never do it perfectly. But our God promises healing, and cleansing, and life, and freedom. Jesus called the disciples to embody the good news to the world. As they did so, they were freed of the illusions they lived in that separated them from their neighbors. Their eyes were opened to the beauty that is only evident in the abundant diversity of God’s creation. They were freed from the fear of losing what was familiar, and secure. Their hearts were opened, and they were free to share, and to receive in full, the gift of God’s presence that always surrounds us. In the words of Maya Angelou, “The truth is, no one of us can be free until everybody is free.”Amen.*** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Exodus 19:2-8a, Matthew 9:35-10:8 [9-23], Ephesians 2:14

May 17, 2020. What does it look like to embody the unity of the Spirit in this time of physical separation? What does the commandment of love, for God and one another, look like in this time of COVID-19? Pastor Meagan's sermon today is on these questions, and Jesus' promise not to leave us orphaned, in this time of uncertainty.Readings: John 14:15-21, 1 Peter 3:13-22*** Transcript ***By now, you probably know that I have a thing for cats. Over the last few weeks, I've had the joy of watching over Facebook as a colleague who lives in Virginia has been raising five tiny kittens whose mother disappeared and has not been found. Weighing in at less than a pound when they were rescued, they needed help with absolutely everything. Their eyes still closed, and their little legs still too weak to support even their bitty weight, they started their time in foster care in a box just big enough for them. They were fed with eyedroppers at first, as they couldn't even handle even a bottle yet. They needed to be cleaned from head to tail, as their mother would have done frequently. As they have gained strength, their space has been expanded to include room to play, a designated litter box, and an increasing number of toys. In the last week, there have been pictures and video of these fur babies, now all over a pound, eyes wide open, exploring not just a box but a whole room, hungrily inhaling solid wet food, pulling on strings and leaping back when the string responds, and pouncing on toys, and one another, and their parents’ hands and feet. They still wobble as they navigate their new surroundings, and they return frequently to the safety of their protected habitat to rest and regroup, guided by the nurturing hands and hearts of their caregivers. Their mother may have disappeared, but they have not been abandoned.“I will not leave you orphaned,” Jesus told his disciples. And although we are now in the Easter season, this promise came before that — before Jesus had even been arrested, before his crucifixion and death, before the disciples discovered the empty tomb. Jesus was trying to prepare the disciples for what was to come, letting them know that everything was about to change, that he was going to be arrested and die, that their whole world as they knew it was about to fall apart, that they would in fact betray him — and yet, they would not be alone.“I will not leave you orphaned.” In our own time of uncertainty, this is so comforting to hear! And there is so much in Jesus’ counsel that can guide us as we navigate our new world, a world changed by the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020.“I will not leave you orphaned.” Jesus promises that the Spirit of truth will be with us, that God will be present around and before and within us, bringing us together. And, Jesus says that the world will not see the truth, but that the disciples will. I hear this and can’t help but echo Pilate’s question to Jesus: “What is truth?” How, in the chaos of this broken world, can we see where we are to go, what we are to do, how we are to be church in the midst of it all?Our eyes are being opened, Christ Lutheran family, in this time when everything we have been used to has been altered. Our routines have been disrupted, the easy sense of inherent safety as we navigate the world undermined. Any illusion that “church” means the building in which we worship has been exposed. Because right in this moment, we're separated from our building, and physically separated from one another. And yet the truth of what it means to be the church is perhaps more accessible to us than ever. Jesus talks about keeping the commandment of love, for God and one another, as a mark of God’s people. It is the greatest commandment, one by which we will be known as the church. What does that look like, in this time of COVID-19? How can we be the church, by embodying love — for one another, for God, and for the world around us?Jesus says the Spirit brings us together, with one another and with God. Jesus abides in us; we abide in God. No matter what forces may try to pull us apart, we are all human, children of God, and in our humanity we are connected. The systems of this world are designed to separate us, put us into categories based on so many things: race and ethnicity, gender and orientation, socio-economic status, language, the list goes on. This pandemic experience can widen the gap, and all we have to do is look at a map of cases of COVID-19 in the St. Louis area to know that the Delmar Divide is real — this virus, while devastating to all of us, is particularly damaging to people of color, and people living in poverty, many of whom do not have adequate sick leave and access to health care.What does it look like to embody the unity of the Spirit in this time of physical separation? Especially in times like this, being the church means noticing when people are left out, oppressed, and excluded, and claiming the love of God that surrounds and embraces and fills everything that is, speaking the truth that we are all one and working actively for a world where all people have what they need. With eyes that are opened, we can see our neighbors living this out every day. Webster-Rock Hill Ministries is there each day, providing food and other necessities for those who need them. Our schools are continuing to provide meals for their students, so no one will go hungry while the buildings are closed. Room at the Inn continues to provide shelter for families without housing, in new ways to keep everyone safe and healthy. Advocates around the city are calling attention to the injustices that exist in our prisons, housing, and health care, and immigration systems, injustices that are particularly poignant as we all navigate a public health crisis like none we have ever lived through.Our reading from 1 Peter today tells us to be ready. Be ready to walk into the world as it is, and embody something different. Stand face to face with separation, and fear, and anxiety, and violence, and be the church — in our families, our schools, our workplaces, our neighborhoods — to witness the love of God, and see God’s creation and our fellow humans, and ourselves, in the light of God’s love.“I will not leave you orphaned.” Just as those tiny kittens have so much yet to learn about the world around them, for us, too, much is yet unknown. And, the Spirit of love, of truth, of hope, is with us, and will be, guiding us as we find our way forward. In our weariness, anxiety, fear, grief, and yes, excitement and joy as we discover new ways of doing ministry together, we can rest assured that we have not been abandoned. God is with us, and we are in this together.Thanks be to God.*** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, 1 Peter 3:13-22, John 14:15-21, coronavirus

May 3, 2020. Pastor Meagan reflects on today's readings by noting that none of them promise that danger will be eliminated, death will cease to exist, or evil will be no more. Things change and we are not the same. But God does not change.Readings: Acts 2:42-47, Psalm 23, John 10:1-10*** Transcript ***I was struck, as I read today’s readings, that although all of them mention danger in one form or another, none of them promise that danger will be eliminated. That death will cease to exist. That evil will be no more. Acts 2 acknowledges that there are needs in the community. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” says Psalm 23. And our gospel today names thieves and bandits that attempt to steal and harm the sheep. Our texts do not present a promise that hardship and even evil will be absent, but something else. It reminded me of something that happened when I was young, my first experience of God’s presence in the midst of things that we don’t understand, sadness and confusion.When I was about seven years old, my favorite pastor collapsed after church one Sunday. We went home unsure of what the outcome would be, and being one who likes to have answers, and wants to understand, I went to the source: my children’s Bible. I read it from cover to cover that day, looking for the answer to why someone so good would die like that, if that’s what was happening. I remember finishing, and still not having my answer — and yet realizing that somehow that was okay, because God knew the plan even if I didn’t.Now, lest you begin to think that I have spent all of the intervening years feeling serene and peaceful and hopeful, let me assure you — I have not. Doubts, questions, frustrations, grief, anger, are all a normal part of human existence and I, like all of you, have experienced them all along the way. But this experience was one of those touchstone moments in my life that has shaped me, revealed something of God to me, and has in many ways informed how I experience God and understand life and death. It has made possible a slow, gradual, sometimes painful, unclenching of the need to have answers for everything as I have grown older.Christ Lutheran family, as the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020 continues, we are walking together through a time that is full of unanswered questions. Why is this happening? Who is this going to impact? Where is God? What are we supposed to do in this really strange time? And maybe most importantly, how long is this going to last? So much we don’t know and don’t understand. We may sense the thieves and the bandits, feel the weight of the shadow in the valley at times, as we navigate hospital corridors, or grocery store aisles, or cross streets to give our neighbors space as we walk on these sunny days of spring, or stay in our Upper Rooms to keep ourselves and our fellow humans safe. None of our readings today promise us that the thieves and the bandits and shadows will go away, much as we wish they might.For those of us used to feeling safe most of the time, and sure of ourselves and our future, these readings today can often be taken as a promise that we will be protected from the dangers and the sadness of this human life. In this time of COVID-19, when danger and sadness and anxiety and uncertainty seem to be all around us, these readings sound very different.Psalm 23 is so often used at funerals, and there is a reason for that. Psalm 23 names head-on the reality of death, the presence of the valley of the shadow. It speaks of a table of abundance, in the midst of enemies who seek to destroy. A wise woman I know created a painting of that image, a table with enemies surrounding it, and she named the enemies — fear, anxiety, self-loathing, resentment. Anyone else felt those enemies, those internal enemies, hovering close in these days? What does your valley look like in this time? Take a moment to name that for yourself, and if you would like to, share that in the chat. Psalm 23 names the valley, and it claims the promise that God the shepherd is there with us. God is with us as we walk the valley, leading us toward places of stillness and healing and renewal. Even in the presence of enemies, the table God provides is ready, abundant, overflowing, and open to everyone. Where are your still places in this time? Where are you finding healing and renewal? Take a moment to name that for yourself, and share in the chat if you wish.Jesus the shepherd, in our gospel, comes to us bringing life to the full. Thieves and bandits, whatever shape they may take in our nightmares, or our imaginations, or even our daily news feeds, may bring death, and lack, and a reason for fear, but our Risen God brings life, and guides us out to pastures that have all we need. And if we wonder what to do as we navigate the valley, feel the shadow, sense the presence of the thieves and the bandits, we can take courage from the story of the early church, as shared in Acts today. They experienced daily threat from Roman soldiers, and all of the stresses of living as an occupied people. They, like us, were separated from their primary place of worship, as the temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed. They, like us, were coming together to live out their faith in new ways, to make sense of what was happening, and to be church together. When — not if — people were in need, they shared what they had. They prayed and they broke bread together. And they gave thanks to God for what they had. We at Christ Lutheran are called to follow their example, even, and perhaps especially, in this time of transformation. Pray. Break bread together. Share what we have with those who are in need. And most of all, give thanks!Fr. Slattery did die that day, and following his funeral life proceeded in many ways as normal from that day forward, as if things were the same. And yet, it was not quite the same. I was not the same. And we living through this time of COVID-19 will not be the same. But one thing will not change: God is with us, guiding us and leading us to green pastures and still waters, places of healing and renewal. We, the Christ Lutheran family, will continue to pray, and break bread, and share what we have with those who are in need. The voice of Jesus our shepherd calls us, and we know that voice, perhaps more clearly in times like this than usual. And in this moment, as we gather together via Zoom and phone and email, and in our homes, and as this crisis passes and we slowly return to our church building, wherever we are — we will dwell in God’s house, forever. Thanks be to God!*** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Acts 2:42-47, Psalm 23, John 10:1-10, coronavirus

March 1, 2020. We are beginning two separate journeys at the same time — the journey of Lent and the journey of the ministry that we will discover together. Pastor Meagan's sermon this morning reminds us that as we share these journeys, God is present, guiding us.Readings: Matthew 4:1-11*** Transcript ***Here we are, and it is my first Sunday here at Christ Lutheran, and it is our first Sunday of Lent, and we seek these 40 days to encounter God in the world around us. And so we're going to begin today two separate journeys at the same time — the journey of Lent as we walk with Jesus as he encounters many different people in the community around him on his way to the cross, and the journey of the ministry that we will share and discover together as a family of faith, as we get to know one another and encounter the Spirit working among us, and in our communities and our neighborhoods around us.And as I reflected on these two journeys, and on today’s readings, it occurred to me that these journeys are really not so different from one another. They are all about relationship. Jesus encountered people as he went, and the people that he met encountered God in Jesus. We will see this over and over in the stories that we will hear as we gather during these 40 days. We in our human journey encounter people as we go, and encounter God along the way. Human relationships, and relationships with God.And as we look especially at our gospel story from Matthew today, with Jesus in the desert, being tempted by Satan, another common thread of our Lenten journey and our own journey as community is revealed. Jesus is tempted three times — to turn stones into bread, to throw himself down from the mountain, and to worship power and evil instead of trusting God. And with each temptation, each encounter with Satan, Jesus becomes a little more clear about who he is as God with skin on.Each temptation is an attempt to set Jesus apart from humanity, to make him relevant, and spectacular, and powerful, as Henri Nouwen suggests. And each time, Jesus claims his trust in God, and his dependence on God, and his commitment to living fully the human experience with us. It is about relationships, encounters with each other and with God.And, it's about who Jesus is called to be in the world. Not apart from, but one of. Not to be powerful, and spectacular, but to embody the love and the healing and the reconciliation and the mercy of God for all those that he encounters on the way.And as we begin to share ministry together, we too are on a journey to discover more about who we are, who we are becoming, as beloved children of God, and as a community of faith. Because each one of us here embodies the love and mercy of God in a beautifully unique way, and as the Spirit is revealed in our encounters with one another, our whole community is transformed, each one of us is transformed.We all know that I am new among you, and I have already been changed in the short time I've been here. Each week, as we gather, we are changed by the encounters that we have with one another, whether we've been part of this congregation for decades, or whether we are here for the very first time.In the community of those gathered here in this moment of time, we encounter one another and God when we enter into relationship with one another as we worship, as we learn, as we enjoy a cup of coffee in the Fellowship Hall.In the community of those gathered here in this moment in time, we discover a little bit more about who God is calling us to be, and how we can embody the love and mercy of God in our unique human experience for all of those we meet along the way.Two separate journeys, Lent and the beginning of our ministry together, and yet they are really one journey, aren’t they? As a family of faith, you and I, we go through these 40 days, encountering God in one another, and in the world around us, and we grow in our capacity to see one another, to see God. And with each encounter, we are transformed, know more clearly who we're called to be as children of God, and who God is calling us to be together as a community of faith.We are just beginning a journey of 40 days. In Biblical language, 40 days doesn't necessarily mean 40 literal 24-hour periods. 40 shows up a lot in scriptures — Noah and his family were in the ark for 40 days, according to one telling of the ancient flood story. Moses spent 40 days with God on the mountain, and the Israelites were in the desert for 40 years! In all of these stories, there is an aspect of the unknown, sometimes a feeling of being lost for a little while, sometimes even a feeling of being abandoned on a journey that seems far too long.And in each of these stories, we know God is present. God carried Noah and his family and animals to dry land in the ark, with the promise of the rainbow to encourage them as they started life anew after the flood. Moses came away from his time on the mountain with guidance for life together as people of God, and God guided the Israelites to their new home with fire and cloud, and renewed his promise and their covenant for their life together as people of God before they entered the Promised Land.People of God who were listening to Isaiah were reminded of God’s call, and we're reminded today as well: “Is not this the kind of fasting I've chosen: to loose the chains of injustice, to untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter?” We are called to be in a relationship with one another in which God’s abundance is shared. We are called to remember that we are all God’s people.At the end of Jesus’ time in the desert, as Matthew tells the story, angels “suddenly” appear and wait on him. Suggesting that far from being abandoned, God was with Jesus all along.And God is with us, this community gathered here this morning, and whether you've been attending for decades or are here for the first time, we walk these 40 days of Lent, and begin ministry together, as a community. And when we feel anxious about the unknown, or a little bit lost, we can look around us, and know that in the midst of this journey, we are not alone. God is present, guiding us, and as we will sing in just a moment, we are all connected with one another.Our journey has begun, and together we will encounter God, in our relationships with one another, in our neighborhoods, our families, and in this community of faith. As God was with Noah and his family in the ark, with Moses and the Israelites in the desert, and Jesus as he faced Satan, God is with us, showing us who we are called to be in this world. Thanks be to God!*** Keywords ***2020, Christ Lutheran Church, Webster Groves, sermon, podcast, transcript, Pastor Meagan McLaughlin, Matthew 4:1-11

God woos us, draws us, desires us, delights in us...sometimes that wooing is tender and sweet like a soft song enveloping our hearts...other times, and for me in this season, that song isn't so sweet - it's more like the rowdy, pounding beats of a heavy metal jam screaming for attention - God woos softly when we need that tender touch, but he woo-hoos us and even Hey, YOU-s!! us when we need a jolt of truth. This is my story of finding true satisfaction in God and how finding satisfaction in Him first and God fully changed everything. It’s not that I had left Jesus – It’s that I was treating him like a social media friend following Him for what I could find interesting and motivational instead of surrendering every corner of my heart, mind, and soul to Him and finding ultimate satisfaction in Him first and Him fully. Be encouraged, laugh, think, and enjoy this message from Jennifer given at Christ Lutheran Church women's retreat. Connect with me and the Dwelling Richly Community Bible study on Facebook and Instagram. I blog at www.JenniferGRichmond.com and I post fun ideas, delicious, recipes and encouraging devotionals along with the deep and faith-building Dwelling Richly Community Bible study. Studies are free to download and you can go at your own pace on your own or with a small-group. Most studies also have an accompanying video series on www.YouTube.com/c/JenniferRichmond

"Restored: Found, Saved, Loved by God" -Where do you go when the platitudes are meaningless, your heart is empty, your hope is gone? This is my story...so far. I'ts a story of Dittos, Christmas ornaments, broken vows and healing. When you ask, "Why me?" or "I just want this to be over"... Whether the season you're in right now is refreshing and simple or hard and complicated, you have a God who sees - and more than that - seeks and finds and loves you. Be encouraged, laugh, think, and enjoy this message from Jennifer given at Christ Lutheran Church women's retreat. Connect with Jennifer and the Dwelling Richly Community Bible study on Facebook and Instagram. Jennifer blogs at www.JenniferGRichmond.com and posts fun ideas, delicious, recipes and encouraging devotionals along with the deep and faith-building Dwelling Richly Community Bible study. Studies are free to download and you can go at your own pace on your own or with a small-group. Most studies also have an accompanying video series on www.YouTube.com/c/JenniferRichmond #dwellingrichly #JgRBlog

Deaconess Heidi Goehmann of Norfolk, NE, works, in part, as a Worker Wellness Advocate for the LCMS Office of National Mission. Her husband, David, is the pastor of Christ Lutheran in Norfolk, an LCMS U chapter serving students at Northeast Community College. Check out Heidi's website heidigoehmann.com, her blog article of the same name as this episode, and check out her study of the Book of Colossians available from our friends at CPH: cph.org/p-33003-the-mighty-the-mysterious-a-study-of-colossians.aspx.

Deaconess Heidi Goehmann of Norfolk, NE, works, in part, as a Worker Wellness Advocate for the LCMS Office of National Mission. Her husband, David, is the pastor of Christ Lutheran in Norfolk, an LCMS U chapter serving students at Northeast Community College. Check out Heidi's website heidigoehmann.com, her blog article of the same name as this episode, and check out her study of the Book of Colossians available from our friends at CPH: cph.org/p-33003-the-mighty-the-mysterious-a-study-of-colossians.aspx.

Deaconess Heidi Goehmann of Norfolk, NE, works, in part, as a Worker Wellness Advocate for the LCMS Office of National Mission. Her husband, David, is the pastor of Christ Lutheran in Norfolk, an LCMS U chapter serving students at Northeast Community College. Check out Heidi's website heidigoehmann.com, her blog article of the same name as this episode, and check out her study of the Book of Colossians available from our friends at CPH: cph.org/p-33003-the-mighty-the-mysterious-a-study-of-colossians.aspx.

Christ Lutheran 2nd Sunday of Easter

Christ Lutheran 2nd Sunday of Easter

December 9 special home church service from the collective Christ Lutheran churches in Charlotte, NC. Streaming live each Sunday at 10am @ fb.com/ChristSouth.

On this episode of The I Heart Costa Mesa Show, we talk to Deborah Hayes, Founder and Director of family-owned-and-operated Starlight Theatre in Westside Costa Mesa. Starlight offers acting opportunities and singing lessons for kids and adults. Go take a class, see a show or check them out on the weekends for Improv, too! Be sure to listen to the end, when Mrs. Hayes sings us out of the episode with her beautiful opera voice. Starlight Theatre online: http://www.starlightshowcase.com/ Starlight Theatre on Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/Starlight-Theatre-200439709979604/ We discuss her time learning and performing at OCC: http://www.orangecoastcollege.edu/academics/divisions/visual_arts/Pages/default.aspx And performing with the Civic Light Opera: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Angeles_Civic_Light_Opera At the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion: https://www.musiccenter.org/visit/Our-Venues/Our-Theatres--Concert-Halls/ Also, we talk about The Improv Collective of OC: http://www.improvcollectiveoc.com/ Mrs. Hayes discusses her years teaching theater at Christ Lutheran school: https://www.christcm.com OCSA Theater Program: https://www.ocsarts.net/students-parents/arts-announcements/musical-theatre HB APA Performing Arts: https://www.hbapa.org/ We also (randomly) talk about her time working in cash control at Disneyland: https://jobs.disneycareers.com/ I Heart Costa Mesa is sponsored by: Music Factory School of Music Please tell your friends about The I Heart Costa Mesa Show – and don't forget to leave your rating and review wherever you listen! Find us on… Facebook: www.facebook.com/iheartcostamesa/ Instagram: @iheartcostamesa Twitter: @iheartcostamesa Big thanks to everyone who helped make this podcast possible! Producer: Danny Thompson (danny@themusicfactoryoc.com) Intro / Outro Voiceover: Brian Kazarian Music: Eddie “DJ Kaboom” Iniestra

Christ Lutheran Sermon Sunday January 26 2018 by Christ Lutheran Cotton

Christ Lutheran Sermon - January 7 2018 by Christ Lutheran Cotton

Glory Bound is Christ Lutheran's own: Kristin Frederick, Linda Bonar & Robin Hyland! Enjoy their cover of the Wailin' Jenny's song Long Time Traveller!

We were live at Christ Lutheran in Cape Canaveral, Pastor Greg LeSieur's Church, where Pastor Gary preached to services and we did the radio show in between.  A nice crowd turned out, and listened to us talk about Angels and Demons, which got good when we talked about the Angel of the Lord...  Jesus Christ! 

This week on Radical Grace Pastor Greg LeSieur of Christ Lutheran in Cape Canaveral joins us as we talk about "the Force of Faith" as the Word of Faith preachers have called it. It is amazing to think that people will play so fast and loose with Holy Scripture that they can actively re write the particulars of our faith and create what amounts to a Folk Religion.