Ginger Litman-Koon, Isle of Palms, SC

Warm-up Question

If you were to qualify for the Winter Olympics, what event would you want to compete in?

Be Nice…Always?

In February, the 23rd Winter Olympic Games were held in PyeongChang, South Korea. Although tickets to the 2018 Games did not sell out, like they have in some years, nearly 1 million visitors, athletes, and support teams traveled to South Korea to participate. Visitors included guests from the 92 nations competing in the games, as well as spectators from non-competing countries. South Korea spent years preparing to host these Winter Games, including participating in high-stakes international talks with delegates from the hostile regime of North Korea, which resulted in the participation of ten athletes and 220 cheerleaders from the North. (Read more about the cheerleaders here http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-42616982)

While South Korea was preparing to receive its horde of international visitors, travelers were preparing as well for the particularities of Korean customs. While the South Korean hosts are a gracious and welcoming people, attention to local etiquette goes a long way to help tourist-host relations. When planning a visit to South Korea, here are some things you might want to know:

Last names first. Traditional Korean names list family name first. So if you meet
someone named “Kim” or “Lee,” you should use a Mr. or Ms. in front of it.

Hands to yourself. Unless you have been invited to do so, do not touch your South
Korean hosts. Personal space is highly valued.

Please be seated. In some Korean restaurants, it is not uncommon to be seated on the
floor. But don’t worry – the floor may be heated!

No tipping, please. If you see a “No tipping” sign, don’t tip. Doing so could be
considered offensive.

Four no more. Similar to American unease about the number 13, it is considered unlucky
to mention the number four. Some Korean elevators skip the fourth floor.

Make a joyful noise! Often, after a traditional Korean meal, guests are invited to sing
Karaoke. Refusing to do so may be considered rude.

In addition to learning some traditional South Korean customs, some Olympic Games staff members received training on how not to offend delegates from North Korea. First and foremost, do not mention their leader, Kim Jong Un. And second, don’t bring up nukes! The presence of delegates from the North, including Leader Kim’s sister, Yo Jong, is such a highly sensitive topic, extreme precautions were taken on both sides to avoid adding fuel to the fire of nuclear-armed tensions.

Discussion Questions

• Did any of these Korean customs surprise you? Are there any you think you’d like to adopt here at home?
• Have you ever traveled somewhere with different customs? What were they?
• How important do you think being “polite” is? Why or why not?

Third Sunday in Lent

(Text links are to Oremus Bible Browser. Oremus Bible Browser is not affiliated with or supported by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. You can find the calendar of readings for Year B at Lectionary Readings

For lectionary humor and insight, check the weekly comic Agnus Day.

Gospel Reflection

A preacher once said in a sermon, “The Good News is not about being ‘nice’.” In a culture, where we teach children to get along, have good manners, be polite, and “be nice,” this may be a challenge. Certainly, putting the needs of others before our own is a Christian virtue, and adopting a servant-heart can very well result in being a “nice” person, there is much more to it than that. Being an active participant in God’s kingdom-work calls us to respond passionately to the needs and the injustices in the world, and sometimes being passionate does not equate to being polite.

In today’s gospel reading from the Gospel of John, Jesus does not exhibit good manners. Today we encounter an angry Jesus. Jesus comes to the holy city of Jerusalem, to the Temple of God on Mount Zion, and there he meets injustice face to face. Instead of serving the poor pilgrims of Israel who have come to celebrate the Passover, the religious authorities are exploiting them by selling high-priced animals to the pilgrims for their Temple sacrifices. And Jesus gets angry. He gets so angry that he weaves cords together to make a whip and drives the livestock out of the Temple court. He then upends the tables and pours out all the money that had been collected by the vendors and those charging a markup to exchange local currency. Jesus is so passionate for the sanctity of God’s house, seeing it turned into a money-making marketplace makes him seething mad.

We often hear about the “wrath of God,” or God’s “righteous anger.” And here, in this story, we see it in Jesus. Other times in the gospel story, he confronts the religious authorities with strong or harsh language, calling them a “brood of vipers,” “hypocrites,” etc.  It can be difficult for us to think of God’s anger, because anger in humans often originates from sin and also leads to sin. For humans, anger often stems from pride or jealousy, and it often leads to grudges, gossip, or a desire for revenge. But in Jesus’ case, his anger did not stem from sin, instead it is directed towards sin. Because Jesus cares so much about God’s children he cannot stand to see sin hurt them. God’s anger is often called righteous, because it stems solely from the seat of righteousness, not from petty or misdirected desires.

Even though it can be difficult for us to accept, Jesus’ anger can bring us comfort. It’s reassuring to know that our Lord cares enough about us to get angry when we are harmed, abused, or taken advantage of. Given the rampant sin in the world today, it’s probably safe to assume that God does get angry – at school shootings, at child and domestic abuse, at war, at world hunger. It’s ok if we feel angry too, as long as that anger comes from the righteousness of God, and as long as it directs us to positive action, not revenge. Today, it may feel hard to stay nice and quiet and polite. Instead, our passion for justice may call us to stand up, to speak out, and dig in our heels for God’s kingdom-work.

Discussion Questions

• What do you think it was like to be there when Jesus “cleansed” the Temple?
• Is it hard for you to think about Jesus getting angry? Why or why not?
• Do you ever feel “righteous anger” about things going on in your life? in the news?
• Can you think of positive ways to direct your passion? How can you turn anger into kingdom-work?

Activity Suggestions

Take a look at the illustrated emotions chart. Find the illustration that describes how you feel right now. Find an illustration that may have described how Jesus felt at the Temple. Which one illustrates how the money-changers felt? Pick one that shows how you feel when you read the news. How about when you finish a service project? Keep the chart to help you identify your emotions.

Closing Prayer

God of justice, ignite our hearts to burn with passion for the work of your kingdom. When we feel angry at others or at the world, ease our minds and hearts, and turn us again to you. When we feel angry at the hurt experienced by your beloved children, direct our energy toward serving, healing, and making a difference in our world for your glory. Amen.

Today’s post is by Shane R. Brinegar, a PhD candidate at the Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago.

The church is not a building or a complicated bureaucratic structure, but an embodied community gathered around bread, water, wine and word—signs that bear the presence of the crucified and risen Christ for the life of the local assembly in that place and for the life of the world. Much ecumenical worship renewal in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries has been sparked by the writings of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65), particularly as expressed in the Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy: “Christ is always present in His Church, especially in her liturgical celebrations… when the Church prays and sings, for He promised: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20) (SC 7). We believe that in word and sacrament, Christ is surely present among us.

This gathered body that is broken and has been redeemed is called to be a broken sign of the in- breaking of God’s presence in our midst. All of those gathered in the assembly testify to this presence, but especially those who are on its margins— the disabled and those who experience otherness and alienation of any kind— because the crucified and risen One whom we encounter disrupts the structures of power and greatness in our midst having himself experienced the ultimate alienation on the cross. Just as the Savior appeared under the form of the opposite as a suffering servant, the assembly that bears the mark of his cross is called to reveal his presence in the places we least expect.

What does that real, broken presence of Christ mean for how we welcome all to worship? First, we might continue to think critically about how the construction of our liturgical celebrations invites or dis-invites those who are disabled into “full, active, conscious participation in the liturgy.” For example, what does it mean to say that the whole assembly is a sign of Christ’s presence when those with physical disabilities cannot get to the place of communion distribution because of the way our spaces are constructed? I have experienced this first hand and spent a great deal of my life “on the back pew” because that is how the presider knew who needed communion brought to them instead of them being able to come forward. Congregations that are designing or redesigning worship spaces can be particularly attentive to how their space communicates welcome, but congregations wisely pay careful attention to all the ways in which they are embodying Christ’s presence to worshippers of all abilities.

(For more suggestions of resources on welcome, see the  FAQs, How can our worship services be more welcoming to people with disabilities? and How can we make our worship space accessible?).

By Elena Robles, Hunger Advocacy Fellow

This is the first year that I’ll be partaking in a Lenten discipline, as a part of exploring the many ways in which I can deepen my faith and understanding of Jesus. In being as transparent with myself as possible, I welcome this time before spring arrives to brush off some of the spiritual lethargy that I have allowed to set in. It’s easy for me to become consumed by the injustices of this world- systemic violence, wars, the persecution and rejection of many of our neighbors. While I do see empathy as an expression of my spirituality, it can be limiting when action is not coupled with it.

 Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”(New Living Translation, John 7: 37-38)

Jesus offers us the opportunity for a deeper transformation and deeper access to the divine fountain. Lent can serve as an opportunity to awaken to our shortcoming, our complacencies to violence, and can push us into a deeper connection between ourselves, our communities, the world and the divine. Personally, my lesson during this season is to focus on deepening my spiritual practices beyond merely being a witness in this world. Deepening faith will help me to live into what theologians like Kelly Brown Douglas refers to as the moral imagination:

“With a moral imagination one is able to live proleptically, that is, as if the new heaven and new earth were already here. This means one’s life is not constrained by what is. It is oriented toward what will be.”-Kelly Brown Douglas, Stand your Ground

We are capable of living out a world where the dignity of black and brown lives is valued, where violence is not a worry for children anywhere,and where the environment is not exploited. We are capable of building a better world,  one that acknowledges our short comings and yet seeks more. Moral imagination is this and more, it dares us to have vision, commitment, and to find redemption.  I know that in all of this, I need to work towards an inward transformation. I’m seeking to build a better relationship with God, so that while I can practice deeply listening, I can equally trust in the spirit to move us toward action.

Scott Mims, Virginia Beach, VA

Warm-up Questions

• (Activity) Give each person some Play-Doh or similar material and have them create a sculpture or a symbol that represents or relates to their faith. After a few minutes, have everyone share their creation and what it symbolizes.  Take note of how many people incorporate a cross in their sculpture.
• Who do you say that Jesus is? If you use words like “Lord,” “Savior,” “Messiah,” or “Son of God,” what do these titles mean to you?

Faster. Higher. Stronger.

On February 9, the XXIII Olympic Winter Games officially opened in PyeongChang, South Korea.  By the time the closing ceremony is held on February 25, some 2,920 athletes from 92 countries will have competed in 102 events. Along the way, there are sure to be many amazing, dramatic moments as some of the very best athletes in the world go for the gold.

Yet, even though those who compete come from many different countries, they all share in the drive and discipline it takes to become an Olympian.  What these athletes often make look so graceful and easy is the result of years of training, often for hours each day.  Their whole lives are oriented around the goals they pursue. Doubtless there is much that those who compete at this level give up in order to focus on their chosen sport.  And, even if they do not get to stand on the podium, their quest to compete has greatly shaped who they are.

Discussion Questions

• Have you been keeping up with the Winter Olympics? If so, what have been some of your favorite events or moments of the games?
• What sports or other activities do you enjoy doing? Have you ever been part of a team or group competition? What did you learn from the experience?
• Which do you think shapes who we are more, what we do – that is, where we spend our time, energy and attention – or what we claim to believe?

Second Sunday in Lent

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

Romans 4:13-25

Mark 8:31-38

(Text links are to Oremus Bible Browser. Oremus Bible Browser is not affiliated with or supported by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. You can find the calendar of readings for Year B at Lectionary Readings

For lectionary humor and insight, check the weekly comic Agnus Day.

Gospel Reflection

“Then Jesus began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”

We come this week to what is often called the fulcrum or “hinge” of Mark’s gospel account.  Not only is it the midpoint of the book, it also marks several important turning points in the story.  Geographically, Jesus has been working mostly in the region of Galilee, but now his ministry will lead him steadily onward toward Jerusalem and the cross.  Theologically several shifts also occur.  Up to this point, Mark has focused on who Jesus is as shown by his words and his works of power.  The conclusion he hopes that we, the readers of the gospel, will reach is the same one that Peter voices in Mark 8:29, namely that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ.  But what does that mean?  From here on out the gospel will focus more and more on this question.  What does it mean that Jesus is the Christ, and, subsequently, how does that shape the lives of those who call themselves Christians?  The invitation that was extended to Peter and the other disciples when Jesus first called to them, “Follow me,” will, going forward, be furthered refined. At the same time, it will also be opened up by Jesus to “any who want to become my followers.”

So, what does discipleship look like?  What does it mean to follow Jesus? Another important feature of this passage is that it contains the first of three instances, three “passion predictions,” in which Jesus foretells what lies at the end of his journey to Jerusalem (verse 31).  Here, as in the other two instances (Mk. 9:30, 10:32-34), those closest to Jesus fail to understand what he is talking about.  Peter rather famously pulls Jesus aside, as if Jesus is the candidate and Peter the campaign manager, and he begins to rebuke Jesus for saying such things.  Jesus just as famously puts Peter in his place.  “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”  And here is the essence of the matter, it is not the disciple’s place to define what “Messiah” or “Christ” mean, for it is Jesus alone who gets to define these things.  The disciple’s place is simply to get behind Jesus, to take up her or his cross, and to follow.

Finally, what does it mean to take up one’s cross?  Is it simply to deal with the problems or troubles that come your way with as much patience, determination, and faith as possible?  We often hear of “bearing our cross” in terms of just such perseverance.  Yet Jesus has something else, something deeper in mind than getting through life as best as we can.  After all, the cross that awaits Jesus in Jerusalem is not an accidental event or circumstance for him to “get through,” it is a direct result of his own work to confront the powers of sin, evil, and death.

As many of us prepare for this summer’s ELCA Youth Gathering in Houston, I am reminded this week of the Gathering’s cross shaped logo and the theme: “This Changes Everything.”  The life-changing grace that flows from what Jesus has done in taking up his cross beckons us to follow, and, in following him, to discover who we truly are.  Jesus defined Messiah in terms of his identification with the outcasts, the forgotten, and the oppressed, bringing to them in word and deed the promise of God’s coming kingdom.  This has important implications for all who would be disciples.  “Taking up the cross means being at work where God is at work in the world to relieve suffering and injustice, to rescue the weak, and to bring peace and justice to bear in the human community.” ^[1]   Because God has gifted each of us with a unique set of gifts, talents, abilities, and experiences, each of us has a unique opportunity to take up our cross and participate in God’s redemptive work in the world.

[1] R. Alan Culpepper, Mark (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Publishing, Inc. 2007), 288.

Discussion Questions

• One often hears that all you need to do to be a Christian is to “believe in Jesus.” How does such a statement compare with the things that Jesus says in this passage?  Can a person follow Jesus apart from believing in him?  Can a person believe in him without following?
• If you were either to paint a picture or to make a list of what it means to take up your cross and follow Jesus, what are some of the things that you would include? How do such activities shape who we are?
• We are currently in the season of Lent, traditionally a time for self-reflection and repentance. Yet Lent can also be a time for spiritual growth. What things in your life right now might you be willing to give up, change, or take on in order to grow as a follower of Jesus?

Activity Suggestions

• Lent is also an important time to reflect upon the meaning of Baptism. Examine together the Affirmation of Baptism service, and especially the description of our baptismal covenant (ELW pg. 236; LBW pg. 201). How is this a description of what it means to be a disciple?  Check out the ELCA website for some great resources that help connect faith practices and the gifts of discipleship.  Two helpful links:

http://www.elca.org/Our-Work/Congregations-and-Synods/Faith-Practices?_ga=2.15329526.198197125.1518492296-749132665.1442867431

http://www.elca.org/Resources/Faith-Practices?_ga=2.11143284.198197125.1518492296-749132665.1442867431

Closing Prayer

Gracious and loving God, in the waters of baptism you name us and claim us and make us your own.  Thank you for the gift of new life and for the invitation to experience that life in the community of your church.  Fill us with your Spirit, call deeply to our hearts, and lead us to more fully and faithfully follow Jesus.  Guide our thoughts, our words, and our actions, that we may be your hands and voice in a world so hungry to experience good news.  In Jesus’ name we pray.  Amen.

Yesterday, Feb. 15, the Senate failed to pass legislation to protect young Americans without legal status, called Dreamers, from deportation. We are disappointed that politics got in the way of passing sensible and compassionate policy to provide a pathway to citizenship for young people who are incredible assets to our congregations and communities. We pray today for those young people and families who face an uncertain future and reinstate our call for Lutherans to be engaged with those young people locally and through advocacy on their behalf. Our voice as people who express our faith by seeking a more just world for all of God’s children is more important than ever.

Since this administration announced the end of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), Lutherans have sent out over 1,300 messages and made phone calls to their members of Congress in support of legislation to protect Dreamers. The advocacy of the faith community has been key in ensuring that trafficking protections for children are not taken away as a compromise to pass legislation.

We were dismayed to see yesterday some senators vote for the Secure and Succeed Act, which would take these protections away and would make it harder for families legally present in the U.S. to be together. As members of Congress head to their districts for recess next week, our voices must be strong and unwavering in the face of the administration’s March 5 deadline to end DACA. Continue to follow our social media and connect with Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service for updates and action opportunities.

After a lifetime of Sundays, worship can seem so rote, so mechanical. Sermon lessons blend together, and we can float through liturgy on autopilot. But as I was reminded this weekend, once in a while something as simple as a children’s sermon can catch us off-guard, grab us, and force us to pay closer attention.

This Transfiguration Sunday, in preparation for Lent, the congregation I was with watched as the pastor gathered the children in front of the altar. Posted on the railings were hand-written signs proclaiming “Alleluia.” The pastor clutched her guitar while talking with the children about the meaning of the word and asked them about when they had heard it before in worship. Then she explained what would happen this week, when “Alleluia” is excised from our sacred speech as we journey through Lent.

She presented them with a box and invited them to remove the signs and place them therein. Then, she rose and began strumming an “Alleluia” verse as the children placed the colorful signs in the monochrome chest, burying the “Alleluia” until Easter.

This wasn’t new or novel. Lutheran churches around the world will do the same this week. The children’s sermon and that final ritual was seasonally appropriate, liturgically relevant. Catechetically sound. And it was also one of the saddest sights I have seen on a Sunday morning. Each child carefully laid a handmade sign in the box, and on that Transfiguration Day, the signs became lifeless, the box like a tomb. In that moment, the death toward which we will accompany Jesus this season became real, and with it the many deaths that have come after Jesus’ own.

The simple act of youth during that children’s sermon was a powerful ritual, made all the more poignant by the lilting tune the pastor strummed and sang. It was as if the juxtaposition of the happy tune and the grave act encapsulated all the tension and paradox within Lutheran faith. It was profoundly solemn and somber, even as the pastor held out hope for the opening of the box on Easter. It was a sermon for the disciples in the shadow of the cross, who lose their innocence as their Messiah is tried and convicted. It was a sermon about the deep sorrow of Lent, and the deeper sorrow of God for a fallen world. It was a children’s sermon for people who can no longer be children.

It recalled to me the millions of children who must keep their own “Alleluias” buried all year round:

• In 2016 (the last year for which we have data), children in nearly 300,000 households across the United States didn’t know where their next meal would come from.
• On a single night in January 2017, the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s point-in-time count found nearly 110,000 children living with families that were homeless. Another 4,800 children under age 18 were unaccompanied by any adult and homeless.
• The World Health Organization estimates that malnutrition was a factor in 45 percent of the 5.6 million deaths of children under the age of five in 2016.
• UNICEF estimates that 50 million children around the world are “on the move” – fleeing violence, disaster, and poverty as refugees or migrants.

As we bury the “Alleluia” in our congregations this week, as we journey through Lent with its sacrifice, repentance, and critical self-examination, our world longs for the “Alleluia” that will not remain buried. Seeing this ritual play out so vividly at the foot of the altar this Sunday, I was reminded why we do this – why we accompany our neighbors in need, why we strive for a world where all are fed, and why we refuse to believe that this is an impossible goal. We do this because we know we must know we cling in faith to that promise that the “Alleluia” must not, cannot, and shall not stay buried forever. That in life, there is death, and in death there is life. We do this because we know that, outside the rhythm of our liturgical season, the “Alleluia” has been released forever by the resurrection of Christ, so that no shout of joy ought to be stifled by hunger, silenced by injustice, or hidden by pain. We know that God’s intention is for our “Alleluia” to resound – forcefully, loudly, boldly – now, in this world, in this time.

As we reflect on the buried “Alleluia” this Lent, we also remember that grace continues to abound in our world through God’s continued work through our church and our neighbors:

• Through the Lutheran Church in Rwanda’s “Integrated Child Support and Welfare” project, more than 130 vulnerable children received the financial support they needed to continue their education in 2017;
• Last year, 25 beehives provided by the Lutheran Conference and Mission Home produced over 660 pounds of honey, which Roma families in Hungary used to earn stable income and provide for their children;
• In 2016, Boise Rescue Mission Ministries in Idaho served nearly 350,000 meals to people in need and helped 600 individuals transition from homelessness to independent living. This life-changing work will continue in 2018.

All of these ministries – and nearly 600 more – were supported last year by gifts to ELCA World Hunger. And all of them bear prophetic witness against the injustice and exclusion that can bury cries of joy beneath mounting need.

Even as we reflect on sin, death and our dependence on God in Lent – even as we ritually bury the “Alleluia” in our sanctuaries, we know that God’s work in the world continues. The work of ending hunger goes on with faith in a promised future where all will be fed. We share in God’s work with hope, joy and faith. And we do this work because we know by faith that when it comes to the seemingly insurmountable problems of hunger, poverty, and human need, God will have the final word. And that word will be “Alleluia!”

Ryan P. Cumming, Ph.D., is the program director of hunger education with ELCA World Hunger. He can be reached at Ryan.Cumming@ELCA.org.

By Tracey Depasquale, Director, Lutheran Advocacy Ministry in Pennsylvania (LAMPa)

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Psalm 51: 1-3

All advocacy must begin with confession.

It is a reminder I repeat to myself daily, if not hourly, in this work – that I am not blameless in whatever wrong I would right. The fear and violence, the racial and ethnic injustice, the economic and educational inequity, the wasting of resources, the polluting of the earth, the tendency to demonize those with whom I vehemently disagree or to interpret someone else’s actions in a less than charitable light. In failing at times to see the others all around me who are struggling mightily toward the same goals, and at other times, in failing to see the value in what I bring to the table. In all these things, I am guilty – by what I do and by what I leave undone, by what I say and by what I leave unsaid.

And then, like David, I remember I have nowhere to turn but to God, who is daily inviting me to do just that.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.” Psalm 51:10-12.

That it is an appropriate way to begin the work of seeking justice and peace in a hurting world is made beautifully visible on Ash Wednesday.

Here, at the start of Lent, we give special attention not only to our mortality and our brokenness, but to God’s entry into both of those for the sake of love. The ashes of death and despair are transformed by the death and resurrection of Christ into newness of life. As Paul tells the Corinthians, this is for us right here and now.

 “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.” 2 Corinthians 5:17-19

This changes everything. Daily. Not only has God reconciled us to God’s self in Christ, but we are given the ministry of reconciliation. Freed in Christ, we are to called to participate in what God is doing in the world. To be reconciled to God is to be reconciled to one another, to become engaged in God’s ongoing activity to redeem and bless the world.  Our advocacy is rooted in this.

This will be the third year that Lutheran Advocacy Ministry in Pennsylvania has organized ashes-to-go at our state capital. It began as a way to help the Lutheran churches closest to the Capitol building offer imposition of ashes to those who serve in state government, many of whom are away from their families and faith communities on Wednesdays. Along with prayers and anointing, those who stop are given handouts with prayers and a list of opportunities for nearby mid-week Lenten observances.  Ashes-to-go immediately grew into an interdenominational event.

To walk about on Ash Wednesday with the mark of the cross on our foreheads is a very public expression of our faith, our brokenness and redemption. Although I cannot see the cross on my own forehead, I cherish the scent of the oil all day as a reminder of God’s very real presence in my everyday life, constantly redeeming and healing and leading me into that same work.

It is a mark at once both confessing and professing. I have wished many times that more days could be like Ash Wednesday, particularly in our capitals.  I have wished that we could meet each other confessing our brokenness, that we could breathe in the delicious scent of grace clinging to us like perfumed oil, that we might be reminded of our mortality by the ashes falling lightly on our lashes and see one another through the cross of Christ, whether we are wearing one on our forehead or not.

Of course, God is present and about the work of blessing and redeeming in all places and times. But on Ash Wednesday, it is fitting for the church to be publicly present where our elected representatives and their staffs go about the businesses of shaping not only how we will all live together in our mutual home during our mortal lives, but what we will leave behind for those to come.

And so, when a reporter asks why we provide ashes-to-go at the Capitol, the answer is not just about an act of personal piety in a public space. The answer is one of hope. In such a time of division, distrust and despair in our public life, the anointing with ashes to mark the beginning of Lent might serve as a reminder of what we have in common – our mortality, our need for repentance, and the steadfast love and abundant mercy of a God who promises newness of life that is to be shared with all people.

I never saw that newscast, but tens of thousands did. It wasn’t done for the camera, but the camera caught something beautiful, as attested to by the comments left on Facebook and email.  When I went to worship that evening, several people approached me with surprise that I was on television. One friend was startled to hear my voice in her kitchen as she was preparing dinner.

She hadn’t planned to come to church, she said, but it sounded like an invitation from God.  Indeed, by grace, it was, and is.

 

³⁷Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? ³⁸And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? ³⁹And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” ⁴⁰And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:37-40)

This is probably going to sound odd coming from someone who works for an anti-hunger ministry, but I cringe nearly every time someone cites Matthew 25. It’s impossible to avoid, much as I try. It isn’t that I have anything against the author of the Gospel (though, really, isn’t Mark more exciting?) But the chapter is cited uncritically so often that it becomes tedious, like the cloying relative who corners you at every holiday, leaving you searching for distractions anywhere and everywhere. Yet, in the last month, I have heard not one but two presenters draw on this troublesome chapter and, through their words, force me to re-think my distaste for it.

Some of the problems with the passage are intrinsic to the words themselves. “The least of these”? Really? We should feed people who hunger, clothe people who are naked, give drink to those who thirst and fellowship to those ill or imprisoned because they are “the least”? The “least” what? The least deserving? The least important? The least powerful? No one in their right mind wants to be considered “the least of these.”

Then, there’s the whole problem of whom Jesus is talking about. Most often, modern uses of Matthew 25 seem to imply that “the least of these” includes anyone in need (or, anyone who might be considered “least” by any measurable standard, however idiosyncratic it might be.) But there are some reasons to believe that Jesus didn’t mean “anyone in need” here. Many biblical scholars point out similarities between Matthew 25 and Matthew 10, noting that Jesus may be referring here to how people are to treat his disciples. So, this passage might have more to do with how we are to treat followers of Jesus than it is about how we are to treat neighbors who are hungry, thirsty, naked or imprisoned. (Or, it might not. That’s how biblical interpretation rolls.)

Still, even these are not the things that trouble me the most when I hear Matthew 25, especially among Lutherans. The biggest problem I have is how quickly we turn from the gospel message of grace back to the law. Matthew 25 is too often set up as a legalistic charter for determining who gets saved and who doesn’t.

The passage itself seems to set this up – you’re either a sheep or a goat. And as the old children’s song goes, “I don’t wanna be a goat – nope…I just wanna be a sheep – baa.”

Matthew 25, a visual interpretation

The goats are destined for afterlife apart from God, while the sheep will enjoy eternal fellowship with the Savior and Creator. Which side we’re on will be determined, it seems, by how or whether we do the stuff Matthew’s Jesus tells us to. How quickly we slide from saying that the Christ event reveals God’s grace to us, who have been convicted by the Law and freed by gift, to saying that there still exists a litmus test of obedience that determines our salvation.

We don’t get to have it both ways. We don’t get to say we are saved by grace and then say that if we don’t act in a certain way, we won’t be saved. It doesn’t work like that.

But does that mean that none of the works listed in Matthew 25 matter? Of course not. Jesus is clear that as we encounter the neighbor in need, we are encountering the Christ. There is something here about how we see the face of God, how we serve God, how we participate in God’s being in the world. And that’s worth paying attention to, though maybe not in the ways we have paid attention to it in the past.

Being saved by grace, as Martin Luther made clear, doesn’t free us from works but from false ideas about works, namely the false idea that works can save us. Too often, we lose sight of this when it comes to Matthew 25, and we start tossing it around as a new law. But it isn’t a new law or to-do list for the anti-goat crowd. Matthew 25 is not a Carnegie seminar for getting into Heaven. It’s a treasure map for finding God. If we are to stay true to the message of the gospel, indeed, the message of all of Scripture, the key is that God is to be found in places of need and among people in need. Maybe “least” here means “least expected.”

“Well, I’ll be! God’s right there in that neighbor.”

Grace impels us to seek God in our midst. St. Augustine characterized love as the pursuit of the object of our love. We pursue what we love. The beloved draws the lover to it. Love of God means being drawn to God – and to all that God loves. We moderns then ask the question, “How can we love what we cannot see?” Matthew’s answer is rather straightforward: you can see God! You see God every time you see your neighbor, especially when you see your neighbor in need. In a strange parallel to the preteen Jesus, I imagine the resurrected Christ saying in exasperation, “Didn’t you know I would be out on my Father’s streets?”  Where else would we find the crucified God than among the “crucified people”?

Seen this way, the passage makes much more sense to me. It stops being about whether we’re sheep or goats, or whether we’re “least” or “more.” Those kinds of hierarchies make it difficult to envision ministry as mutual. It also makes it difficult to encourage authentic service of our neighbors that goes beyond begrudging obedience. But if we start with grace and then do our interpretation, there is so much more to be gained. (Ain’t that always the truth?) Grace changes our service from begrudging acceptance of a task to joyful embrace of a mission. It transforms the neighbor, too – from a tool for our own salvation to a complex reflection of Emmanuel (literally, “God with us.”)

If we read Matthew’s chapter through a lens of grace and allow it to shape ministry in such a way that we see our neighbors as visible manifestations of the living God, maybe there’s hope for this passage yet. And maybe there’s hope for us, as we learn ever-deeper ways to live out our faith in an increasingly needy world.

Ryan P. Cumming, Ph.D., is the (often ornery) program director of hunger education for ELCA World Hunger. He can be reached at Ryan.Cumming@ELCA.org.

Herb Wounded Head, Brookings, SD

Warm-up Question

When was the last time you looked up at the stars or the moon? What sort of feelings do you experience when you did?

Life on Mars

Perhaps you’ve heard of billionaire Elon Musk. He’s an inventor and entrepreneur who founded the electric car company Tesla, as well as the solar energy company, SolarCity and the company SpaceX. Most recently he has been in the news for launching one of his own cars into earth’s orbit on the rocket, Falcon Heavy. Inside of the car is a mannequin wearing one of SpaceX’s spacesuits with the cars sound system playing David Bowie’s song, Life on Mars. The car is hopefully on its way out of earth’s orbit and on its way to Mars.

Elon Musk has big ideas and big dreams. He has a dream to deal with earth’s overcrowding by making it possible for people to live in space, and perhaps even on Mars. He addresses the issue of climate change by creating safe, solar energy that one day may become affordable for all people. Musk is unafraid to challenge the status quo and do things that no one else would dream of doing because of all of the roadblocks and naysayers who say that the things that he dreams up are just too impossible to happen. He has the resources and the wherewithal to do what he can to make the world a better place through technological advancements such as these.

But he also does some pretty silly things. There is literally a car in space, making its way to Mars! That’s just incredible and amazing and kind of silly. He also recently created a flamethrower which generated $10 million dollars for another one of his companies, The Boring Company. Again, this is kind of silly and more than a bit dangerous. In the above article, Musk is quoted as saying about his Tesla flying into space, “It’s kind of silly and fun, but silly and fun things are important.”

Discussion Questions

• What do you think of Elon Musk’s achievements? Are they silly? Are they important?
• What sort of silly things do you do to keep yourself grounded?
• What dreams to you have that may seem impossible?

First Sunday in Lent

(Text links are to Oremus Bible Browser. Oremus Bible Browser is not affiliated with or supported by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. You can find the calendar of readings for Year B at Lectionary Readings

For lectionary humor and insight, check the weekly comic Agnus Day.

Gospel Reflection

In our Gospel lesson, Jesus is baptized, claimed by God, driven out into the wilderness by the Spirit, tempted by Satan.  Then he begins his ministry. That’s a lot to have happen in a few short verses. Other Gospels go into more detail about Jesus’ baptism and temptation, but the Gospel of Mark gets right to the point of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus has important work to do, mainly letting people know that the kingdom of God is present and real in the world and that the kingdom has come to being with Jesus’ work among us.

But the first thing to happen before Jesus begins any of this is that he is baptized and claimed by God. Our ministry in the world begins with our own baptism. Indeed we are all called to be witnesses to God’s kingdom in the world, so we too have important work to do. In the Affirmation of Baptism in the Lutheran church, we make promises in our covenant with covenant God made with us in our baptism including, “to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, to serve all people, following the example of Jesus, and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth.”

The season of Lent is a good time to be reminded of those promises as it’s an ideal time to take stock of our lives and to return to serving God’s kingdom in this manner.

To strive for justice and peace in all the earth means a lot of things. It can be serving the poor and the homeless. It can be working at your local bank and doing good and honest business with others. It can be as a student treating your classmates and teachers as people who are important and blessed by God.

It can even be sending a car into space with the hopes of helping humanity in some way. In the Lutheran church, we call this vocation, living out your calling in the world to strive for justice and peace in all the earth. Sometimes it’s grandiose dreams and ideas. Most of the time, it’s in the way we go about our day to day lives as God’s people who respond to the world’s greatest needs by simply being true to ourselves. God has claimed us as His own in our baptisms, and we are truly loved so we can continue Jesus’ ministry to love and care for the world God made.

Discussion Questions

• How do you live out your baptism? What sort of things do you do to strive for justice and peace in all the earth?
• What experiences remind you of God’s presence with you?

Activity Suggestions

Now is a good time to make some affirmations of each other in your group. Make sure everyone has a writing utensil and a piece of paper. Have everyone write their names on the top of their piece of paper. Have them pass their paper to their neighbor to the right of them and instruct the group to write one positive thing on the piece of paper about the person whose name is at the top of the paper. This activity works best if you remind the group to look beyond just their physical characteristics, such as, “You have nice hair,” or “I like your shoes.” Help them to look at their personality and other gifts that they might have. If your group knows each other fairly well, have them share the positive statements. Keep these positive statements in your Bibles as reminders of the gifts that they have.

Closing Prayer

God of the heavens, you reach out to us in Your Son and call us Your own. Empower us to dream big dreams and to also do the little things that make Your love known throughout Your kingdom. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Today’s post is by Tim Knauff, Jr., Senior Pastor of Christ Lutheran Church, Valparaiso, Indiana.

By now you’ve probably been asked, half-jokingly, if you will be celebrating Ash Wednesday or Valentine’s Day on the 14^th.  For me it was my 7^th grade Confirmation students who were appalled when I said we would be observing Ash Wednesday. “How can you not preach on love?” they demanded.

When church moments coincide with cultural events (think Superbowl, Mother’s Day) it is an opportunity for reflection on our relationship with contemporary culture. How we think of that relationship matters quite a lot, as H. Richard Niebuhr challenged us almost seventy years ago. Is our mission to be ecclesial blessors of society, faithful resistors, transformative agents, a cloistered remnant, along for the ride? Do “secular” events belong in our worship space – to blend, to bend, to bless, to transform, to mock, to ignore?

In the case of Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday, the differences might seem stark. Candy hearts and pink cards seem a far cry from smudged ashes and the discipline of repentance. Our first instinct might be to keep them separate, to not even acknowledge Valentine’s Day. Or, maybe our first instinct would go the other way, to let Valentine’s Day hijack our observation with a pink bulletin cover and smudging a heart instead of a cross. Are there ways they can inform, interweave, transform, and teach? Or is to ignore or capitulate the only options?

I don’t think my Confirmation student’s argument, that love equals love and “how can you not preach on love?” is a sufficient connection. Perhaps we might explore the ways Ash Wednesday fulfills Valentine’s Day by teaching us how to love. There’s no question that “love” is a compelling topic: according to a National Retail Federation and Prosper Insights & Analytics survey, this year Americans expect to spend an average of $143.56 each on Valentine’s Day; total spending is expected to reach $19.6 billion. We as the Church might ask – and help our culture to consider – what it means to “love”?

There are obvious textual connections: “Return to me with all your heart,” the Lord implores in Joel. “Where you treasure is, there your heart will be also,” Jesus reminds us. Both texts really answer the question, “How shall we love the Lord with all our hearts?” In Joel it’s through repentance, return, remorse; in Matthew it’s the classic disciplines of almsgiving, fasting, prayer.  Joel and the alternate reading in Isaiah remind us none of this is to manipulate God, just as flowers etc. aren’t (shouldn’t be?) meant to manipulate a beloved. Rather, the discipline itself changes and forms us.

Perhaps we might focus on that closing verse of Matthew: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” In the context of Valentine’s Day, that could help us consider how to keep and create healthy relationships. As Luther reminded us, “Anything on which your heart relies and depends, I say, that is really your God.” (“The Large Catechism,” The Book of Concord, ed. Kolb & Wengert 2000, p. 386). Even a good thing, like being in love, carries peril.

Or perhaps we might use those texts to remind ourselves that in order to love, it is necessary to know who we are; Joel and Isaiah call us to the hard work of knowing who we are not, that important step towards knowing who we are. As we consider healthy Christian community, we can follow Bonhoeffer and remember that we belong to each other only through and in Jesus Christ (Life Together).

There are probably as many ways to explore this interesting intersection as there are worshipping communities. Thinking together about that intersection – how do we relate to our surrounding culture? – matters, because it is a chance to reflect on Jesus’ mission entrusted to us. As we follow him who loved the world so much – how shall we love it too?  It seems to me a chocolate heart just isn’t quite enough.