The Parable of Internship

Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

The kingdom of heaven is like a seminary student that God took and planted in the field of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Washington, DC. The student was born and raised on the prairie of South Dakota. Her home congregation was a small white church in the middle of nowhere. Before moving to DC she had never even spent the night in this city. Over the course of one year that student grew and grew. Her roots dug further into the ground and her branches grew and blossomed. She was fed and nourished in this congregation in the booming metropolis of Washington. She created relationships with the people of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. She loved them very much and they taught her many new things. She led worship, preached, and taught the good news to all ages. Then there came a day when she needed to leave the field of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. She knew that she would only be at St. Paul’s for a year, but the year went by so quickly. Grateful for all of her experiences she packed her bags and uprooted herself. She returned to The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg to finish off her last year of class so that she could graduate and then be ordained as a pastor in the ELCA. As she went on her way St. Paul’s Lutheran Church prepared the ground for another seminary student to be planted in their field in Washington, DC.

Why do I tell this parable? What does it mean for you? It means you have a purpose. Our text from Romans today says, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” You, my friends, are called. You are called to be teachers and professors to me, your intern, and other interns down the road. You are called to be a place of learning and inspiration. You are called to be a classroom. You are called to be a place of growth for seminary students.

Internship is a very important part of the Master of Divinity degree program. If students were sent right from the classroom into their first call congregation they would not be prepared for all of the ins and outs of ministry. That is your job. It is your job to provide the practical ministry preparation. They cannot simulate this kind of learning in a classroom on campus. The things I have learned in the past year can only be learned while working in the field.

So, what have I learned? You have taught me how to make the gospel applicable to the lives of real people. You have taught me to appreciate liturgy and organ music. You have let me mold and shape your children and youth. You have shown me how the church can be actively involved in social issues like hunger and homelessness. You have taught me about budgets and church finances. You helped me to have fun, which resulted in me wearing a panda hat for the entire week of VBS. You have turned me loose in South Dakota with your youth for a whole week. You have allowed me to explore this city and the urban lifestyle. You have taught me not to drive in rush hour if at all possible. You have taught me how to use public transportation. You have taught me to stand right and walk left when riding escalators, which I am not as terrified of anymore. You have let me into your lives and into your hearts. And most importantly, you have shown me what it means to be filled with the love of God.

So, I go from this place inspired. I go from this place feeling called to meet people where they are at, walk with them in their journey through life, affirm them in their gifts, teach them the foundations of the Lutheran faith, invite them to take part in the sacraments, show them warm hospitality, care for them, love them, and help them to see God’s presence in their lives. I go from this place with your imprint on my heart.

There are a mix of emotions in this sanctuary today. Some of you might be sad that I am leaving. Some of you might be excited to see where my future leads. I am also feeling a mix of emotions today. I absolutely hate goodbyes. I am sad to be leaving, but excited to see where God might be leading and calling me after I finish my degree next spring. I am also hopeful for this congregation and eager to hear how it will continue to grow and change in the years to come.

I know that this is goodbye, but in the larger journey of life it is only “so long.” We are all connected by the love and grace of God and no matter the distance or time that separates us I am certain that we will continue to work together to the glory of God. In fact, the second lesson today reminds us of that hope. “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, no things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Although we may be used to hearing this text at funerals, it is appropriate for this day of farewell, too. So, even as the miles and minutes separate us from one another I am convinced that the love of God can never separate us, no matter what.

We cannot be separated because you have taught me so much and have formed my pastoral identity. As I think of the ways you have impacted me in the last twelve months I cannot help but think about how the things I have learned here will not stay here in Northwest DC. Instead the things I have learned from you and from this place will go with me and will be used to impact the lives of others. But one thing is for certain you have changed me. In the words of my favorite musical, “Because I knew you…I have been changed for good.”

I am very grateful for my experience here in the place. It has been an honor and joy to walk with you throughout the past year. Each one of you has been a blessing in my life. There are so many things that I have learned in this year that I will take with me back to the classroom and to my future ministry contexts. Thank you so much for this experience and the opportunity to grow in this place. I hope that you will continue to be a place of learning and growth. I hope that teaching future pastors will continue to be part of your purpose, your call as a congregation. Amen.

Planting Seeds

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

The Way of Welcome

Matthew 10:40-42

I remember a skit that we used to do when I worked at Bible camp. It was called “Jesus is coming to dinner.” A visitor comes and knocks on the host’s door and asks for food. The host turns the visitor away without any food. Another visitor comes and knocks on the host’s door and asks to use the bathroom. The host says no and shuts the door. The next visitor to knock on the door asks to use the phone. But the host again closes the door providing no help to the visitor. The host was too busy preparing for Jesus to come to dinner, to assist the visitors with their needs. Lo and behold, Jesus never comes, or at least Jesus doesn’t come in the form that the host was expecting. Actually it had been Jesus that had come asking for food, a bathroom, and to use the phone. Clearly the host was not attempting to take our text for today into consideration. Jesus had come, but the host was too busy preparing for Jesus’ arrival to even take time to extend hospitality to the one at the door. The host was too busy to take time to welcome the guest, the Christ.

Now I know that we don’t get many strangers in these parts, but just imagine what you would do if a stranger showed up on Sunday morning. What if you got to church and someone was already sitting in your pew—you know the one that has your imprint on it? Maybe you would just go and sit somewhere else and ignore the stranger in your pew. Maybe you would sit next to the stranger and still ignore them. Maybe, just maybe, you would sit next to the stranger and actually welcome them. Maybe you would even give them a cold cup of water. What if that person was Jesus?

When I think about welcomes, that take our Gospel text for today into consideration, I immediately think of some of the different places where I feel a strong sense of hospitality. One of those places is right here at Good Hope Lutheran Church. I have always felt welcome. I think it is that sense of welcome that caused me to like church and encouraged me to become a leader in the church. You showed that hospitality today. You welcomed this group from my internship site in Washington, DC. Not only did you make sure that there would be worship, you provided breakfast, and my grandma ensured that we would not go hungry at lunch. You very easily could have said, “Cassandra, we are not scheduled to have worship that Sunday, so I don’t think it will work.”

Another place that I always feel an overwhelming welcome is at camp. It is like a second home for me, even as the years go on and I know less people at camp, I still feel welcome. Not only is camp a place of welcome for me, it is a place of welcome for everyone that drives onto the property, young and old alike. When I was on staff, we were taught by words and actions from day one to always welcome everyone who steps onto camp property.

And when I think about welcome I think about one more experience. In January of 2010 I spent ten days in Nicaragua and Honduras. During my visit, with other students from seminary, we stayed in the homes of some of the local people. In Somoto, for the first home-stay, I stayed by myself with Angie and Roger and their three daughters. They did not really know any English and I do not know a whole lot of Spanish, but we managed to communicate to some extent with the help of my Spanish-English dictionary and a lot of patience. Roger and Angie let me use their room and full size bed, while they all crowded into the room that their three daughters typically used. It was a very comfortable two-day stay. They served me some incredible Nicaraguan food, which I had to eat alone. Almost all of our meals on this trip were eaten without the Nicaraguan people. If that was not the case, our group was always served first, served the most food, and served the best food. In one community they even killed a chicken so that they could provide the best welcome by serving us meat, which is not eaten very often and is reserved for special occasions.

It’s these experiences of welcome that inspire me to be hospitable, as well. This week while I am here in South Dakota, receiving the welcome of friends and new acquaintances, I have a classmate staying at my house in DC while she takes a class. It is really difficult for me to imagine her coming to my house and me not being there to welcome her. In fact, it was so difficult that I had to leave her a page long note apologizing and giving her tips on where to find things in my house. Welcome and hospitality are really at the core of who I am as a person.

Now I don’t want it to seem like I am telling you that you must do x, y, and z in order to be hospitable. I know that you are hospitable people. After all, you have taught me hospitality and welcome from a very young age. However, hospitality looks different for all people and it looks different in different places. Regardless of how the welcome looks, we are called to be hospitable to the stranger—the one in our midst. We are called to welcome everyone, regardless of what they look like, the color of their skin, or the amount of money they make. In being welcoming we are also being hospitable to Jesus. We are showing love to God and the stranger. In welcoming people we also welcome Jesus, the one who has sent us, and God, the one who sent Jesus to live among us teaching us the way of welcome. May we, who have been welcomed by a loving God, always be ready to welcome the stranger because we never know when Jesus might actually show up for dinner. May this be the melody we sing as we welcome our friends and our foes, those we know and those who we do not.

All are welcome, friend and stranger

At the banquet of our Savior.

All are welcome, all are welcome here.

Go into the streets and cities.

To the farms and families.

Tell about the splendid table.

God’s mercy.

All are welcome, friend and stranger

At the banquet of our Savior.

All are welcome, all are welcome here.

Amen.