Baptism and Betty Rendón

5-26-19

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen.

If you haven’t already noticed by now, today’s theme is baptism, Baptism, Baptism!!!! All access baptism, all baptism, all the time!!

And you might have noticed that all through the Easter Season, we have begun each service at the font, with a thanksgiving for baptism. And THIS particular service is just FULL of baptism, between our readings for this morning, not to mention and ACTUAL BAPTISM… and not just ONE but TWO new members of the Family of God both here at this church and becoming our siblings in Christ in the sacrament of Holy Baptism!

The sacraments are where the God’s presence intersect our lives. We Lutherans have …. How many sacraments? (Two) Excellent! We “only” have two because our “Recipe” for a sacrament has two parts: a word or promise from Jesus, and a physical item. Do you remember what the other sacrament we celebrate is? (Holy Communion) That’s right! And for Holy Communion, Jesus said this IS my body and blood, given for you… and the physical item is …. (Bread and Wine). For baptism, Jesus said in Matthew, Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them…. And I will be with you.” And the physical item is…. (water) of course.

Holy Communion is what sustains us on this, often difficult, journey of our Christian life… which all begins at Baptism, the welcome into God’s family, into the life Christian community, as we heard with the story of Lydia.

 I love this story, and not just because we happen to share the same name. Lydia is an extraordinary woman. In some footnotes of history, she is known as “the first European convert” because of where she lived… but she SHOULD be known for so much more. We are limited by what the text tells us about her… but even these few details make her amazing. She was definitely a worshiper of God, likely a Macedonian Greek living in Roman town, which already makes her unusual. She ran her own business in purple cloth, a commodity so difficult and expensive to make that only the very rich could afford it.

In charge of her household, she took the initiative to invite Paul and Silas into her home, after “her” entire household had been baptized. This would have included extended family – aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and grandkids …. also, servants, slaves, and perhaps some of her employees. There is even a chance that Lydia may have been a slave herself at one point in her life. In the ancient world, the common practice was to name your slaves after their country of origin, and Lydia was actually a kingdom in Western Asian Minor, part of modern Turkey.

We can’t know for sure, but it still neat to think about the journey of this faithful women, perhaps from slave to business owner to worshiper of God to baptized follower of Jesus… and eventually the home base of the Christian church in her region which helped to launch the church in Philippi… the community that Paul wrote to in his letter to the Philippians. We have Philippians because of Lydia! All because she – an outsider, prayed next to a river, listened to a preacher, and was baptized.

In baptism, live are forever changed – we are healed, we are made whole, and we become part of the family of God…. No matter what age, social standing, gender identity or sexual orientation, citizenship status, or credit score. All are welcome in the waters of baptism.

This welcoming has just been made real to both Dawn and Stephen this morning, as they were welcomed to THIS Family of God, part of the family of God of all times and in all places. We made promises to walk with them in their baptismal journeys, until, like Kyle in a few weeks, they can claim their faith as their own. But ultimately, we are reminded, every time we see water, of all the ways we are given life… Luther suggests that we recall our baptisms every time we wash our face. And we also remember the promises that GOD has made to US. Not a promise that, once we are baptized, our lives will become all daisies and unicorns. But a promise that we will never have to live this baptismal calling alone.

I want to tell you about a Lutheran Pastor who has been in the news lately, whose life has been very difficult in the last few days and is about to get worse. Pastor Betty Rendón, used to work part-time at Emaus Lutheran Church in Racine, Wisconsin, until she was arrested by ICE on May 8^th.  She fled from Colombia to the US 15 years ago because of violence in her neighborhood and earned her M.Div in Chicago and was appointed by the Bishop of Milwaukee to serve church in Wisconsin until she could become a legal resident, at which point she could be ordained in the ELCA. She, her husband, her daughter, and her granddaughter were dragged from their home in the early hours, still in their pajamas, and later, because the ICE officers failed to secure her home, her house was burglarized. Betty is scheduled to be deported back to Colombia this upcoming week.  

But she is not alone. Pastors and parishioners have been praying for her, calling there representatives on her behalf, and holding vigil at the detention center she is being held at. And her bishop, Paul Erikson, and our presiding Bishop, Elizabeth Eaton have spoken out on her behalf. But it might not be enough to stir the right people to act rightly. But we have to try, and we wait to see if what we have done has been enough. Unfortunately, Betty has had no contact with the outside world, not knowing that she is being fought for and prayed for, and she probably feels completely alone, like the man from our Gospel reading.

This man, waiting, imprisoned by his illness, alone, and friendless, did not expect a man to come along and to ask him an extremely impertinent question – do you want to be made well? OF COURSE, he wants to be made well! He just can’t GET to the healing…. And so, the healing comes to HIM. Jesus tells him to pick up his mat and walk…. And he DOES. No magical waters required.

Another man was also told by Jesus to “take up his mat and walk,” as described in a sermon by Otis Moss III, which I heard at the Festival of Homiletics in Minnesota over a week ago. Pastor Moss reminded us of how important our mats are in the healing process – in both stories the men are healed, but they are commanded to carry their mats along with them – the mats become a reminder – a marker - of who they once were, how far they have come, and who is the one who has done the healing.

Of course, we don’t have physical mats to carry around, as these healed men did. But we do carry a mark, an unseen one, that remains with us after our baptisms to remind us of our identities as baptized and beloved children of God. After Dawn and Stephen were baptized, I drew the sign of the cross on their foreheads, and forever they will be marked as belonging to God. That mark will always be there, and it is still on YOUR foreheads too.  And it will change you forever, like it changed the course of Lydia’s life…. And the lives of those who were baptized as a result of her legacy of hospitality.

We are a people who go through our days both marked by the cross, and still carrying our mats. We are healed, but not made perfect, beloved, but we will still have to navigate the complications of this world. But our baptism mean that we will navigate our daily realities differently. Like the healed man, we carry our mats proudly, unashamed of letting others know that we need God’s help sometimes… dare I say it, even TELLING people about our encounters with Jesus! I like to think that carrying our own mats also gives us compassion to help others carry their own.

And like Lydia, we open our homes and our lives and our buildings and maybe even our country to help further spread this Jesus movement, open to where the Spirit might be leading. So that no one is made to feel abandoned and alone.

I can’t wait to see where God takes Stephen and Dawn as they start their baptismal journeys. But no matter what, how easy or how hard, we all will be with them, and helping them along the way. And God is with us too. Thanks be to God. Amen.

St. Tabitha's Lutheran Church

Sermon 5-12-19

Grace and peace to you from God our creator and from our risen lord and savior Jesus the Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen. 

It’s been quite a May OUT THERE in the world, hasn’t it? And it’s not even half over. Just in the last week there has been another school shooting. Some of us are still reeling from the death of Rachel Held Evans, a Christian writer and blogger, who died suddenly at the age of 37. She was supposed to speak at the annual Festival of Homiletics in Minneapolis, where I will be next week. And every other month bring us news of another church in our synod closing its doors. There is so much pain, fear, and death out there in the world.

And there is a lot of death in these texts we heard this morning: the 23 Psalm, which we often only remember from attending the funerals of our loved ones. Perhaps the 23^rd psalm was read at Tabitha’s funeral, from our Acts reading.

Tabitha certainly left a legacy behind her, didn’t she? She was a disciple devoted to serving others, especially to marginalized and status-less people, like widows in her community. She cared for people whom no one else would care for. But then… she became ill. Her body ceased to function the way it should, and she died. I’m sure all the people she helped wondered why God would allow the death of such a faithful and caring servant. Her death left such an impression that even Peter was summoned to her side, where he was greeted by all the people she had helped, who displayed her handiwork.

We all know or knew a woman like Tabitha. But more importantly, we all know or have known a CHURCH like Tabitha.  St. Tabitha Lutheran Church would be a great name for a church, wouldn’t it? So, we’ll use that name for our hypothetical “every-church.” St. Tabitha Lutheran church doesn’t really exist anywhere, but it exists everywhere. It is a church that was constantly busy doing acts of service for the community, taking food into the heart of the inner city, collecting items to be distributed to the needy, recognizing and cooking meals for those in emergency service jobs, volunteering to pack any kind of kit to be send to any country in the world on a moment’s notice.

In her hey-day, this imaginary church’s building was full, every day of the week, with mom’s groups, Girl scout troupes, AA and Al-Anon groups, and for a while a day care and nursery school. The confirmation class was flush (most years), and the youth group nights were full of the noises of the Foosball table and laughter and too much mountain dew. The Sunday school rooms and the parking lots were bursting on Sunday morning. Bake sales for the homeless, spaghetti dinners for the youth group service trip, church baseball leagues… there was always a big event on the horizon to prepare for at St. Tabitha’s.

But then, the neighborhood started to change…. New neighbors moved in, neighbors who were less interested in scoping out local churches … or neighbors who looked less and less like those who looked the members of St. Tabitha’s moved in…. or the neighborhood stopped growing and stagnated. The town stagnated or declined, and everyone’s adult children moved away to find better jobs, only reappearing at Christmas and Easter, to give the remaining members a bittersweet reminder of what was.

Year by year, the rooms became more and more empty, as fewer and fewer kids went to Sunday School, youth group, and confirmation. The carpet got shabbier, and the walls started to crack, and the basement started to leak, just as the budget began to go dry, and the great wound of the deficit grew larger.

Good ministries still happened. The Gospel was still preached from the pulpit, even though fewer and fewer people where in attendance. The faithful sang with their hearts, though they struggled more and more to fill the space with their song. They confessed, and they prayed, and they broke bread together, till the end. They still gave of their time and their effort and their money to good causes whenever they could… but they could not keep it going forever. Their committees dwindled and volunteers grew scarce. They were tired and tapped out, emotionally and physically. Soon, there was nothing left to give.

The building started to fall apart, and their vision clouded, and their heart gave out. It became time for the fictitious St. Tabitha Lutheran Church to face their greatest fear: Holy Closure. Time to close the books, shut the doors, and conclude this particular chapter in the great story of God’s story.

Their greatest fear had just come to pass – the loss of what they had built together, and who they thought they were. But this loss is not the same as death, though it may feel like the same thing. They may have feared they failed… they may have thought they had tasted the finality of death. But they were wrong. This was not the end for them. And it is not the end for us, either.

To God, Failure is not an option or reality. To God, Death is not the final answer. When facing a tomb, God rolls away the stone. In the face of death, God tells us to rise.

This invented congregation may no longer have buildings, or copiers, or organs, or choirs, or confirmation…. But they are still disciples… They are still the church, and they are still the body of Christ, no matter what happens. That’s what it means to be part of God’s flock – all of us are beloved disciples, no matter what, and we all have a part in this kingdom work, whether or not we have fancy instruments or a fellowship hour. After all, Jesus started the church with 12 people and no building and we’re still here, two thousand years later.

One of those first disciples, Peter, the Petros, meaning Rock, that Jesus is building his church, calls God’s servant Tabitha to rise on behalf of her Good Shepherd… because there is still work to do for God’s flock. And when she heard the voice, she rose.

Jesus didn’t say, “The sheep who have it all together, who always do the right thing at the right time, the perfect, those with disposable income, time, and energy - THEY are the ones that hear my voice and follow me.” Jesus didn’t say that, because that kind of sheep simply does not exist. Instead, Jesus has claimed you in all your flawed glory as his own, a sheep of his own flock, a sinner of his own redeeming.

Jesus, our Good Shepherd, knew the heart and mind of God. Jesus our Good Shepherd healed people when they were broken and feed people when they were hungry. Jesus our Good Shepherd stood up to the powers of this world and beyond and said “No more.” Jesus our good shepherd stared death square in the face and didn’t blink, and we are four weeks into celebrating his rising from the dead. We belong to THIS flock, his flock, and we no longer have to be afraid.

Who else belongs in this flock? During Jesus’ life, his flock consisted of twelve grizzled working men who had as much finesse as a hammer. They were selfish, quarrelsome, and often clueless when it came to what Jesus was trying to say to them. And since then, the flock of Jesus has come to include all who are in need of God’s grace – the poor and the oppressed, the addicted and the fearful, the broken and the exhausted, you and me. This is why the Jewish leaders refused to see – they could not abide the thought that flock of God including the likes of these. They could not see that God’s flock extends beyond the walls of their worship space.

The closing of the fictional St. Tabitha’s, though imaginary, feels very real and very close. And congregations will still close, and the world is still a scary place – but this I know to be true: from death God raises us to new life. And there is nothing that would cause our Good Shepherd to leave our side, nothing that would keep us from his care. Nothing can steal us from out of the hand of Jesus.

But until then, until we taste of that eternal rest promised to us in Psalm 23, we have a lot yet HERE to do. The voice of the Good Shepherd is calling us, get up, rise up. We’re not done yet; we all have some work yet to do. Thanks be to God, amen.

"Drop the Shells, Peter"

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, amen.

Every year all the rostered ministers of our synod gather together on the Tuesday of Holy Week for something called a “Chrism” service. We worship together, sing together, share communion together, and receive special anointing oil that is blessed at this service. This is the same oil that is used to anoint at baptisms, healings, and confirmations that I do. I will be using this newly blessed oil only two weeks from now, for a special double baptism that will be pretty exciting. At this service too, Bishop Pat Davenport preached, her first Chrism service sermon. In the middle of her sermon, she shared this video from former pastor, writer, and theologian Rob Bell. This is from a video series called “Nooma,” which is the English-ized version of Pneuma, the Greek word for Holy Spirit, or Breath of God.

It’s the third Sunday after Easter, still in the season of Easter, and already the Alleluias are starting to get a little rote, the lilies are fading and almost dead, and life is definitely back to normal as we careen into spring and dive headlong into summer, whatever that may bring. Though we are still in the throes of the season of Easter, and Peter and the other disciples have experienced the Risen Jesus… Peter still decides to go fishing. But as we just heard, Peter and the other disciples are soon back on the beach, eating breakfast with Jesus in the sand. Peter forgot what the main thing was, and that is exactly what Rob Bell will talk about in this video. It’s called “Shells” and I think by the end you will see why by the end.

As you listen, hear how Rob Bell says about what distracts us from keeping the main thing the main thing. 

Was it shocking to you to hear that Jesus didn’t do everything? It certainly was jarring to me when I heard it during our Chrism service. Here we all were, pastors about to get into the nitty gritty of Holy Week… being reminded that not everything depended on US. And not everything depends on YOU either. We don’t have to do ALL the good things in the world. We just have to do one or a few of them… but do them WELL…. Even Jesus says no. But that’s because he already has said a “YES.”

The question then becomes obvious. What is our “Yes”? What is our Starfish that we go after, which we can only hope to reach once we have dropped our shells? We only have two hands. We only have so much time, energy, money, and resources. We are, after all, only human.

Rob Bells said that the enemy of the best is the good. Not that we need to strive for excellence in all things to be worthy of God’s love…. But meaning some ways to serve God are most effective, and more faithful ways than others. To drown in good does not do anyone any good.

We’re not sure why exactly why Peter got distracted from being a disciple to go back to fishing, but thankfully Jesus met them where he was at, and gently reminded him to keep the main thing the main thing. Drop the nets. Drop the shells. Feed and tend God’s beloved flock. Thanks be to God. Amen.