Fast Food vs. Fine Dining

John 6:35, 41-51

Today I want to test your fast food knowledge.  I am going to begin with a few interactive questions.  Yes, that means you have to respond.

What do the golden arches represent? – McDonalds

Where can you buy a blizzard? – Dairy Queen

Which chain restaurant claims to serve the better butter burger? – Culvers

Which restaurant was founded by Colonel Sanders? – Kentucky Fried Chicken

Our world is filled with fast food.  If there is one thing we are good at identifying it is fast food.  The book Fast Food Nation claimed that 88 percent of people could identify the golden arches.  We can recognize the signs and know which fast food joint is ahead.  We can find fast food just about anywhere and we expect that when we pull up to the drive thru at Taco John’s on our road trip that they will serve the same signature items, like our dearly loved potato oles, as the one down the street.  This type of food, while usually un-healthy, is quick.  It provides nourishment in an instant, no waiting required.  It is fast and convenient, but does it really nourish us?

So if that is fast food, then what is fine dining?  I think we get a glimpse of it today in our gospel text.  We hear about another type of food and it isn’t fast.  This is the bread of life.  If we feast on this food, the bread of life, we live forever.  We will be nourished eternally.  This is food that is founded on relationship.  Dare I suggest that I don’t think we can live without this fine dining?  In fact if there is one diet that I don’t think Jesus would recommend it is the Atkins diet.  He wouldn’t want us to ditch those carbohydrates.  He wouldn’t want us to miss out on the bread of life.

Just in case there is any confusion I want to make it clear that Jesus isn’t talking about literal bread here.  Jesus is using a metaphor to make the point that just like one cannot survive without the staple food of bread, one also cannot survive without a relationship with him.  Jesus is the staple of our spiritual diet.

            Bread, although a staple food, is pretty ordinary.  It really doesn’t seem that special.  If the metaphor used filet mignon or lobster, then it might seem more special.  I think that is part of Jesus’ point here though.  He is comparing himself to something ordinary.  In doing so he helps us to recognize that God is present in the ordinary, mundane, and unremarkable things in our life.  I also think this plain Jane metaphor is used to emphasize the ordinary part of Jesus.  Jesus, human flesh, born of a young ordinary woman.  However, some people cannot get over how ordinary Jesus was.  That seems to be the problem that the Jews are having in our text today.  They don’t understand how Jesus can claim that he came down from heaven, when they know that he was the son of Mary and Joseph.  They don’t seem to comprehend that Jesus is out of the ordinary, too.  In fact, Jesus is extraordinary, born from above, as living bread from heaven. 

            In order to be in relationship with Jesus, the bread of life, we must be drawn by the God.  We must be pulled, beckoned, even dragged by God.  In this we do not make the first move.  It is not our decision.  God makes the first move, drawing us in closer.  I think this is where the Holy Spirit comes into play.  What brought us to church today?  Sure maybe it is part of your routine.  You enjoy the fellowship.  Maybe your just can’t survive without donut holes and coffee.  Whatever your reason may be I think there is an even bigger reason.  I think the reason is relational.  There is a spiritual need to come to worship to be refreshed, renewed, and revitalized.  I think there is a God sized hole in our bodies that needs to be filled.  For most of us that God sized hole was discovered before we even walked or talked.  In Holy Baptism our parents and sponsors brought us to the font to have that God sized hole filled.  They promised that they would nourish us with more than fast food.  They promised us relational nourishment with the bread of life.  Like children, we are all in need of nourishment and sometimes we can’t even describe what it might look like.

I remember a story, told as a sermon illustration about a minister who was discouraged to learn that his parishioners were hard pressed to recall any of the sermons he had delivered over all the years he had served in their church.  He lamented to his wife that he felt his work was useless if he had made such a little impression on the people he served.  Fifty two sermons a year for so many years, and hardly anyone could specifically recall more than one or two.  After allowing her husband to feel sorry for himself for a while, his wife asked him to describe in detail all the meals she had prepared and served him over the many years of their marriage.  He was hard pressed to specifically remember more than a few. She said to him, “You don’t remember the food I’ve prepared and served this family with love, and yet it has nourished you and sustained you day in and day out for all our lives.”  Then she added, “So it is with the work you do in the church.  The love and care you put into delivering God’s message, both in sermon and in deed, has nourished and sustained the people you serve, whether they can describe it or not.”

Indeed, here we are nourished and sustained.  From this place where we are fed in communion and washed in the waters of baptism we are sent out into the world.  We are sent to be bread for others, nourishment for their lives.  And we are sent to point others towards the bread of life, Jesus, who provides eternal life.  In doing so we show the world that there is something much better than the convenience of fast food, there is fine dining that will fill the God sized hole within us.  Our nourishment can be found in Jesus, the bread that came down from heaven.  Amen.

Citizens with the Saints

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

Now, the Star-Bell Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars.
Those stars weren’t so big. They were really so small.
You might think such a thing wouldn’t matter at all.
But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches
Would brag, “We’re the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches.”
With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they’d snort
“We’ll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!”
And, whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
They’d hike right on past them without even talking.

            In case you are unfamiliar, that is an excerpt from “The Sneetches” by Dr. Seuss.  If you have read it before you know how the story goes.  There are Sneetches with stars on their bellies and other Sneetches without.  These two groups are very divided.  They will not play together, because they are different from one another.  They are not welcomed by each other.  Throughout the story they learn a lesson, as the dividing wall is torn down between them.

            Have you ever felt like a Sneetch?  Have you ever felt like you didn’t fit in?  Like you weren’t welcome?  Maybe you have been told you are too big or too tall.  Maybe you hair is too curly or too straight.  Maybe you sing off key or don’t make enough money.  I think it is safe to say that we each have encountered moments when we haven’t fit in, when we have felt like sneetches without stars on our bellies.

            Then there are larger dividing walls in our world today, and I am not talking about the orange cones that separate us from the oncoming traffic in constructions zones.  There are the haves and the have nots.  The democrats and the republicans.  Those who are non-Christians and those who are Christians.  The Americans and the non-Americans.  Those who are east river and those who are west river.  The young and the old.  Those who shop at Target and those who shop at Goodwill.  The people who support war and the people who don’t.  Those who are un-educated and those who are educated.  The rich and the poor.  I know I could go on and on, but you get the idea.  And I would venture to say that most of us probably know what it feels like to be on the inside and on the outside of these dividing walls.  Neither place is enjoyable or peaceful.  And if I may be blunt, this is not what God intended.  No, God intended a world of peace and welcome.

On Tuesday I took a bit of an adventure to a new place.  Well almost every day that I have been here has included an adventure to a new place, but on this particular day I went to Outlaw Ranch.  One thing you should know about me is that I LOVE CAMP.  I spent several summers attending camp as a camper and then working for Lutherans Outdoors at camp.  Yet, I had never been to Outlaw.  So, I hopped in my car on Tuesday and headed to camp.  One of my favorite parts of camp is that everyone is welcome.  It doesn’t matter who you are, what you look like, or where you have been.  It is always a place of welcome.  A place where all are welcome...no exceptions.

In our text from Ephesians today we hear the same welcome.  We hear that Christ has broken down the dividing wall.  He has purged us of our hostility.  He has created a place of peace.  He has brought reconciliation to all.  And then the text says “You are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints.”  We, too, are citizens with the saints.  We are individuals created by a God who loves us very much and desires for us to be in healthy relationship with each other.  Our differences make us unique, but they do not divide or separate us from others.  Just as we are loved by God just as we are, God calls us to welcome and love everyone just as they are…with no exceptions.  In doing so, we recognize that we are no better and no worse than anyone else.  We are all citizens with the saints, created, claimed, and called by the same God and Lord of all.  Through the death and resurrection of Jesus the walls of hostility have been torn down and we have been reconciled to one another.  We have been made citizens with the saints.

That is the theme of the youth gathering in New Orleans—Citizens with the Saints.  Shortly after the last youth gathering in 2009, which was also in New Orleans, people talked about how that year Lutherans had entered through the front doors into the homes and lives of the people of New Orleans.  They said we were going back to New Orleans in 2012 because then we would be entering through the back door as friends, no longer as strangers.  From what I have heard so far, the gathering has been a great learning experience and an important piece of the faith journeys of our young people.  There are about 37,000 people attending the gathering this year.  They all come from a variety of backgrounds, places, and life situations.  One youth from Oregon said this in her reflection after the first day of the gathering, “New Orleans is a safe zone for this week, I don’t have to justify or prove myself to anyone because people here just get it.”  I would guess that others would say the same.  Not only is the gathering a place to have fun in an awesome city, it is a place where faith is experienced and all are welcome.  I hope when our youth return from New Orleans you will listen to their stories and share in their experiences. 

My even bigger hope and prayer is that together we can make South Canyon become a place of peace, a place where no one has to justify or prove themselves.  A place where all are welcome.  I know I haven’t been here very long, but I think that hospitality can always be improved.  Eventually I hope that our sense of welcome spills over beyond this place, into our daily lives, and we become beacons of peace in our city and our world.  May we truly live as citizens with the saints.  That we can throw aside our differences and live in peace.  That we can learn the same lesson that the Sneetches learned.  Here’s how it ends.

But McBean was quite wrong. I’m quite happy to say.
That the Sneetches got really quite smart on that day.
The day they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches.
And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars and whether
They had one, or not, upon thars.

Amen.

Love God, Love People

Matthew 22:34-46

An old rabbi was teaching two of his brightest students. The students ask, "How do we know that the night is over and the dawn is coming?' The rabbi replies, "What do you think?" The first student says, "When it is light enough to tell the difference between a dog and a sheep." The old rabbi shakes his head, 'No." The second student says, "When you can distinguish between a grape vine and a sycamore tree?” The old man shakes his head again. Finally, after they petition him again and again, he says, "It is when you can look into the face of a stranger and see a member of your own family. At that moment it is the dawn that is coming." In our text today Jesus reminds us that love of God and love of neighbor are intimately related. Jesus even goes so far as to command this love of God and love of neighbor.

The expert in the law comes to Jesus and asks, “Which commandment is the most important of all?” Jesus doesn’t even need time to think about it. He replies with the greatest commandment, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” But Jesus, does not stop there he continues, “The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” These commandments may seem familiar to us or they may not. However, they are also found in the Old Testament in Deuteronomy and Leviticus. The Old Testament includes 613 laws. Yet, Jesus picks these two commandments and pairs them together in order to form the greatest commandment.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” So what does it mean to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind? It means that we love God with our entire being. It means making no division in our lives between what is sacred and what is secular. It means loving God everyday of the week, not just on Sunday mornings. In all that we do and with all that we have we are commanded to love God. Love God with all your heart, which is the center of your feelings. Love God with all your soul, which is your spirit. Love God with all your mind, which is your thought, understanding, and imagination. Love God with every ounce of your being.

We are also commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves. In first-century Jewish thought, “as yourself,” means “as though he or she were yourself” or as if you were in the same situation as your neighbor. This is a variation of Jesus’ Golden Rule, “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” which is similar to a saying of first century Rabbi Hillel, “What is hateful to yourself, do not do to your neighbor; this is the whole law, the rest is commentary.” In Leviticus the neighbor is primarily another Israelite, by the time of Jesus it included non-Jews. Today the neighbor may be as near as one’s spouse or family, or as distant as a homeless person huddled around a heating vent in the depth of winter, or someone on the other side of the world. Regardless of the other person’s location or situation in life we are commanded to love our neighbors. Love your neighbors as you would have them love you.

This makes me wonder who our neighbors are. I remember when I was growing up I never really thought I had any neighbors, except my Grandma, who lived next-door, literally steps away. She was the only person who lived really close to me, because I lived on a farm. My friends from school that lived in town had lots of neighbors, next-door neighbors on all sides of their houses. My next closest neighbors, the Ness family, lived about a quarter mile down the road, down one hill and up the other. They had three daughters, whom my brother and I often played with growing up, but that was about all I had for neighbors. Everyone else lived at least a mile away and to me that was not a neighbor. As I grew older I began to understand the concept of neighbors differently. Today I would like to introduce some of my neighbors to you.

I want you to meet my neighbor. His name is Gene. He lives in poverty near New Orleans. Before Hurricane Katrina he had very little and after the hurricane he had even less. He lost all his photos and personal mementos in the hurricane. When I along with some other college students helped him with his house (a house none of us would ever find livable), he gave us each a rose from his rose bush. It was the only thing he had to give. Gene is my neighbor. Who is your neighbor?

I want you to meet my neighbor. Her name is Sandra. She lives in a township in South Africa. She lives with her father, mother, and two brothers in a house that is the size of most master bedrooms in our country. She is in high school. Someday she would like to go to college and become a doctor so she could help others, but her family cannot afford a college education for her. Sandra is my neighbor. Who is your neighbor?

I want you to meet my neighbor. His name is Eduardo. He lives with his family at the bottom of a canyon in Guadalajara, Mexico. Everyday he walks up the canyon to go to school and then back down the canyon to go home. It is a very long walk. He speaks Spanish and I speak English, but we can still communicate. A smile is universal. Eduardo is my neighbor. Who is your neighbor?

I want you to meet my neighbor. Her name is Melinda. She is in her mid-thirties. She is a schoolteacher in Finland. Melinda visited the United States for three months as an exchange counselor. She and I spent a summer working together at a Bible Camp. I taught her about America and she taught me about Finland. Melinda is my neighbor. Who is your neighbor?

I have neighbors from all over the world, of every age, ethnicity, gender, economic class, and thought. Some of these neighbors I know well and others I do not know. When we, as Christians, reach out to such neighbors we become well-rounded people with a global mindset and a deeper understanding of the human condition. If we are always surrounded with people that look, speak, and think like us, when will we ever be challenged? So, Jesus challenges us with this text. Jesus commands us to love our neighbors. Not just the neighbors that live in our neighborhood. Not just the neighbors that we know. The point is that we love our neighbors, but the point is not that we choose our own neighborhood. The point that Jesus makes here is that we love our neighbors, regardless of what neighborhood they are in.

Jesus commands, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself.” Though this command is comprised of two commands, they cannot be separated. One commentary states, “Love of God cannot exist without love for all fellow human beings as its content. Love of humanity cannot exist without love of God as its basis.” If we really love God with our entire being we will love our neighbors. If we really love our neighbors we will love God.

Yet, this still seems like such a big task. It makes me wonder how we are supposed to love God and all of our neighbors. Unlike the English language, in the Greek language there is more than one word for love. The word that is used in this text is agape. One author explains agape love as “acting for the sake of the beloved, as doing good, as self-giving, and as selfless altruism.” Agape love does not involve a “personal fulfillment and a sense that the other has value worth appreciating.” Agape is the kind of love God has for humanity and all of creation. Agape is the love we are commanded to have for God and for our neighbors. This is a love that sees beyond the color of skin, the amount of money in the bank, and the neighborhood in which one lives. This is the love that Jesus commands: agape love of God and agape love of neighbor. Are we able to love God with all of our being and to love our neighbors—all of our neighbors, too? The ultimate test comes when we can look, with hearts and eyes of love, into the face of a stranger and see a member of our own family-God’s own family. Amen.

Give and Your Heart Will Follow

Matthew 6:19-21

Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl
The girl who has everything?

Look at this trove, treasures untold
How many wonders can one cavern hold?
Looking around here, you'd think
Sure, she's got everything.

I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty
I've got who's-its and what's-its galore
You want thing-a-mabobs?
I've got twenty
But who cares? No big deal. I want more.

Ariel was guilty of it. I am guilty of it. We are all guilty of it. We like our gadgets and gizmos. We like earthly treasures. And, if you are anything like me, you have a long list of things you want. An iPhone. A Kindle. A new pair of shoes, Tom’s to be exact. A new car. And don’t forget a money tree to pay off all my debt. Yet, the reality is, I have so much. When I moved to seminary from South Dakota I bought a Jeep to haul my earthly treasures across the country. By the time I graduate, I think, no I know, that all my material possessions will not fit in the Jeep to move home. Maybe you are in the same situation. Blame it on your love for shopping. Blame it on all those books from your seminary classes. But whatever you blame it on, recognize that the real reason is because we like to store up treasures on earth.

I remember reading this passage of scripture on internship shortly after my credit card had been stolen and some one had attempted to break into my house in Washington, DC. All of a sudden I realized that my treasures on earth could very quickly be taken from me. I could have quickly gone from having a lot to having very little in earthly possessions. Now that was a scary feeling, but it did knock some sense into me. I realized that I could lose my earthly possessions, but I would still have a lot. I would still have my family, my friends, a supportive internship congregation, my life, my faith, and God’s love.

Now, I want to be clear, that my intention is not that you go sell all of your possessions and give the money to the poor. I don’t think this was Jesus’ intention with this teaching either. It’s not about despising earthly treasures. It’s not about thinking that we are entitled to them either. Jesus is trying to get us to reduce our list of wants and recognize that our hearts follow our treasures. After all, Jesus didn’t say, “Where your heart is, there your treasure will be.” No, instead, Jesus taught, “Where you put your treasure – that’s where your heart will end up.” Mark Allan Powell, in his book “Giving to God,” writes, “The point isn’t that how we spend our money reveals what sort of people we are, but that how we spend our money determines what sort of people we become”(53). So, what kind of person do you want to become?

You could choose to live a life full of earthly treasures. You could love your gizmos and gadgets and want every new thing that appears on the market. You could live solely for yourself and forget about those around you who might have needs that are much greater than your wants. Or you could choose to live differently. You could choose to live a life full of heavenly treasures. You could be thankful for what you have and learn to get by with the first generation gizmo. You could live so that others would also get to live in abundance by sharing your treasures with others.

Maybe you are thinking, “Cassandra, I really want to be a faithful steward, but I am just a poor seminary student.” Don’t worry I am in that boat with you, but realize that treasures are much more than money. Treasures are the things you value. Giving our treasures is about giving our time, our talents, and our financial resources. In our text for today Jesus is calling us to give our treasures to those things that we want to care about. Mark Allan Powell urges to, “Give where you want your heart to be, and let your heart catch up”(55). Jesus promises that our heart will go where our treasures go.

How can you give? You could give your time. On our campus there are three Student Association committees: Social Outreach, Communications, and Wellness. You could give of your time and help these committees to serve our campus community and the world. You could give of your talents. You could use your musical gifts to glorify God by singing in one of our choirs. You could use your athletic skills to bring home to Book of Concord in the upcoming Luther Bowl. You could give of your financial resources. Currently our campus, along with the other schools that are participating in Luther Bowl, are collecting school supplies to give to those in the wider community that might not have the appropriate supplies for the school year. These are all ways that we can be faithful stewards of all the gifts that God has so graciously blessed us with.

So, instead of living like Ariel, singing of all the things that we want, let’s live proclaiming a different story. Let’s live singing the story of the abundant gifts God has given. Let’s proclaim the story of salvation that was given to us through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. And in response to all that has been given to us let’s give. Give faithfully. Give boldly. Give of our time, our talents, and our financial resources. Give to God and know that our hearts will follow wherever our treasures go. Amen.

Abundant Grace

Matthew 20:1-16

I vividly remember a hot summer day in the middle of July, when over one hundred campers and staff stood on the deck waiting for lunch. After we had prayed the counselor responsible for dismissal said, “the last will be first and the first will be last.” The campers at the end of the long line rejoiced. The campers at the beginning of the line complained. This happened almost every week that I worked at camp and the results were always the same. The last being first was not fair. The first being last was not fair. The hungry campers had forgotten that there was always an abundance of food at our meals. Instead, it was just not fair.

Our text today about the parable of the workers in the vineyard can cause us to see unfairness, too. The first workers were hired early in the morning, around 6am. Other workers were hired at 9am, noon, 3pm, and 5pm. At the end of the day, they were each paid a full days wage, regardless of the amount of time they had worked in the vineyard. The landowner even goes so far as to pay the workers that were hired last before paying the workers that had been hard at work since 6am. “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” The last being first was not fair. The first being last was not fair. The equal pay for unequal work was not fair. They had forgotten that at the end of the day they had made more money than they expected to make when they headed to the marketplace in the morning unemployed. Instead, it was just not fair.

Life is not fair. I am sure you have each heard that a time or two. And I would venture to say that you have also said those four simple words several times throughout your life. It’s true; life is not fair. Life is not fair when someone you love is diagnosed with cancer. Life is not fair when you get a lower grade on a test, even though you studied many hours. Life is not fair when your colleague is promoted before you, even though you have worked at the company longer. Life is not fair when you are paid the same wage as someone who has worked much less time than you have. Life is not fair.

Often I think our idea of unfair stems from our sinful humanity. As humans, who always fall short of the glory of God, we are sinful. One sin that we often commit is coveting. I think there is a reason that coveting appears twice in the 10 Commandments. It is very easy to covet what others have. When we admit that life is not fair, usually we are comparing ourselves, our possessions, and our lives to those of others around us. We covet what God chooses to give others. In our text today the laborers that worked all day in the vineyard coveted the pay of the laborers that worked only for an hour. In coveting, they think it is not fair that all the laborers in the vineyard receive equal pay.

Have you ever coveted the pay of someone else? Have you ever thought your pay was not fair for the work you had done? Now I have not had many jobs throughout my life, but there was one job in particular that I had where I probably wasn’t paid fairly. I was a babysitter, a cheap babysitter. I would usually get paid one dollar an hour for each kid I babysat. Most people are often shocked to learn that, as the going rate for babysitters and day cares is much more than one dollar an hour today. Some of the youth that I met during my internship last year in Washington, DC made 5, 10, or 20 times as much per hour as I had made as a babysitter less than ten years ago. It seemed unfair to me. Often we get caught up in comparing our salaries to the salaries of others. The workers in the vineyard were not exempt from that salary comparison. They coveted the salaries of others and declared that their pay was not fair.

So what is fair? God’s grace is fair. God’s grace is for the last and the first. God’s grace is for the wealthy and the poor. God’s grace is for the healthy and the unhealthy. God’s grace is for the young and the old. God’s grace is for the worker that put in a twelve-hour day and the worker that put in a one-hour day. God’s grace is fair.

So what do you hear in this parable? Do you hear unfairness or grace in the parable? Did you work a whole day or only an hour? Are you the first or the last? As I first hear this parable I think I am an exhausted worker that was busy all day long. I was hired early in the morning. I certainly put in my time. I deserve my pay. Then I realize that I am more likely the worker that was hired last. I probably did not put in more than an hour of work. Instead I should be greatly surprised by the abundance of my pay. I got more than I deserved. In fact, we all get more than we deserve. If we got what we deserved we would each be hanging on a tree, like our Savior Jesus Christ.

I am certain that Jesus does not tell this parable to show injustice. It is not to show impartiality. It is not to show unfairness. It is to show the abundance of God’s grace. God’s justice is God’s grace. God’s grace comes to us in the waters of baptism. God’s grace comes to us over and over again through the meal that is shared at this table. God’s grace is given abundantly, over and over again to those who are first and those who are last. Amen.

Cross-Bearing Discipleship

Matthew 16:21-28

Today’s text begins with Jesus and his disciples. The disciples were his main supporters. Jesus was the leader of their group and they were the followers. He taught them many things as they journeyed together. Today there would be yet another lesson. Jesus was predicting his death and resurrection. Peter, specifically, did not like this prediction that his leader was giving. So, he rebuked Jesus. And what does Jesus do, he rebukes Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.” Jesus explains that Peter is not setting his mind on God’s interests, but on that of humanity’s interests. In fact, the role of a disciple was not to guide or protect, but to follow. Regardless of the fact that Peter is rebuked he is still a disciple. Jesus does not revoke his disciple status. Instead, Jesus uses this as a teachable moment. He explains to the disciples and the crowd what a follower of Jesus is called to do.

Jesus says, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” This is a call to Christian life and discipleship. However, the way in which we understand this summon from Jesus is much different than the way the disciples and the crowd understood it. Taking up one’s cross would not have been seen as metaphorical, like it is today. Taking up one’s cross would have meant crucifixion. One commentator explains it this way, “Crucifixion was the death penalty with an attitude—an unspeakably shameful way to die. Criminals were crucified naked. Crucifixion itself did not kill a person; the spike wounds were too slight. Instead, the condemned hung helplessly for days at a time, weakening from starvation and thirst. The stretched arms caused the rib cage to compress the lungs. The only way to get a deep breath was to ease tension off the arms by straightening the legs, putting weight on the spiked feet. As the condemned person grew weary, he became too feeble to leverage himself up for air. Most crucified people died of eventual suffocation.” In addition, crucifixion was very public, often taking place near major roads, where many people would see the event. So as Jesus tells the crowd and the disciples that in order to follow him they need to take up their cross, the people would have been shocked and terrified. Today, in a country where we do not crucify people, we can barely understand what those followers of Jesus were thinking at the time. Therefore, we need to use our own context to think about what it means for us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Jesus.

Imagine this situation with me. There are 100 middle school youth walking in silence throughout bible camp while watching a reenactment of Jesus’ life. As their counselor, I walk along with them. Jesus is baptized. He calls the disciples. He ministers to a variety of people. Jesus and the disciples celebrate the Last Supper. Jesus prays in the garden. Jesus is arrested. Peter denies Jesus. Jesus is handed over to Pilate. Barabbas is released. Jesus carries his cross to the place where he will be crucified. As Jesus carries this heavy cross he falls to the ground. The soldiers that walk with him point to me and tell me to take his cross and carry it for him. It was at this moment when I began to realize how difficult it was to carry that cross. It was physically difficult. It was also emotionally, psychologically, and socially difficult. I wondered how much larger and heavier the cross actually was that Jesus was crucified upon. As I carried that cross and the middle school youth followed me to the place where Jesus’ crucifixion would be reenacted they stared at me, watching my every move. I could only imagine what Jesus felt like. Today, as I reflect on that moment, I wonder what it would be like to literally take up my own cross.

Jesus says deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow me. Jesus summarizes this process of being his follower in three important steps, all of which are not easy. Deny yourself. In this action we are called to stop striving for what we think is right in our lives, those things that might hinder us from doing God’s will. We are called to entrust God with this control over our lives. Not easy. Take up your cross. This is not just about bearing burdens. It is also about dedicating our whole lives to Christ. Also, not easy. Follow me. This signifies that Jesus will be with us. Jesus is leading us. We are not alone, because Jesus is our leader and we are the followers. Jesus, our leader, has already taken each step that he calls us, his followers, to take. Up to this point in Jesus’ life we have seen his ministry, healing, and compassion. Now we are called to follow him into his suffering, the suffering of death on the cross. Once again, not easy.

As Jesus continues to explain what this life of discipleship looks like he says, “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and for the gospel will save it.” This is not the road toward personal gain. It is a way of service and love. It is also a way of sacrifice and suffering. With Jesus as our leader he calls us to follow this road. Along this road there is not necessarily a destination, but there is a journey, a way of living into discipleship and cross bearing.

So, what does this life of discipleship and cross bearing look like today? It is about being a Christian in our church lives and our public lives, in our whole lives. When we are at work we must not allow the pressures of our co-workers to lead us to deny our faith. We must not allow the coaches at our schools to punish young people for not attending practice on Wednesdays, because they are at church activities or confirmation. Cross bearing discipleship is about living the Christian life even when it may be difficult, discouraging, or unpopular. It is about bearing our Christian identity no matter what the rest of the world thinks. With that in mind we understand that this life of discipleship is not easy and it is certainly not a one-time deal. Christ calls us to deny ourselves, bear our cross, and follow him each moment of every day and each and every day of our lives.

So Jesus says to each of us, “Will you come and follow me if I but call your name? Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same? Will you let my love be shown, will you let my name be known, will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?”

My hope is that we can each respond, “Lord, your summons echoes true when you but call my name. Let me turn and follow you and never be the same. In your company I’ll go where your love and footsteps show. Thus I’ll move and live and grow in you and you in me.” Amen.

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.