SERMONS
2021
ECWK Second Sunday in Lent Feb 28, 2021
We give thanks for your everlasting covenant, by which we put our faith in you, counting on it as righteousness,
and calling us to take up our cross and follow Christ in ways that lead us to new life. +
Some may see within this Sunday’s readings a call to be patient and long-suffering in the pursuit of worthy and just causes. In a sense, to have faith in God to take up our own cross. A message we might be able to sympathize over, especially while enduring consequences of a pandemic that may feel never-ending.
Others may hear God’s promise that in all things, even something as awful as the cross, we are called to work together. For as Paul wrote (in Romans 8:28): All things work together for good to those who love God. Today Jesus invites each of us to take up our own cross and to face our struggles by trusting that God is in control.
Which is a message that might provide some comfort during health and safety challenges, and even the pain of difficult economic times. Others may still try to rely on things they used in their past, solely for their own well-being, rather than pursuing the tough work of seeking justice, health and security for all.
Perhaps this week’s passage is calling us to embrace the pain of others – rather than explain it away, or just seek to comfort or merely decry it – by trusting that God is in the midst of our brokenness, working for us by calling us to help one another.
Let me try to unpack that a little bit. Imagine how it must have pained Jesus to reveal to his closest friends that he was taking them on a path that was going to lead to suffering, rejection, and ultimately bring even death.
We want our friends not to worry, not to dread what lies ahead, and yet we want to be able to be honest, fully known and accepted. We want to break down the walls between us and let ourselves be accepted for who we are. But what happens if being seen causes pain?
Peter revealing his own fear and love rebukes Jesus for saying that he will suffer and die: [Brah] Don’t say things like that! And, like a brother putting him in a head lock, Jesus responds right back, telling Peter: You are not seeing the way God sees.
How hard it is really hear each other, yet how much greater is the pain of not being heard. Peter’s pain comes from not being able to listen all the way. He hears nothing after the words suffer and be killed. By being so afraid of facing pain he missed the rest of the story.
He misses the rising again. The soul of what matters, the really Good News for all of us, if we are able to listen to the whole story.
Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve been struck over the years that perhaps the one thing that unifies us most fully is that each of us has experienced brokenness. It may be the abandonment of a parent, the betrayal of a loved one, the loss of a child, the death of a dream, the oppression of those who hold power, or any number of other things. Yet this fact remains: to live is to struggle, to hurt, and to experience loss and brokenness.
I’ve also been struck by the reality that on most occasions we would prefer to hide that brokenness from others. Perhaps that desire comes from some kind of embarrassment – as we do not know if others will respect us if we let down our guard and show our wounds.
Then again perhaps it is the fear of being vulnerable – or being overwhelmed by loss and grief. Varying from occasion to occasion, many tend to favor strength, health, and self-sufficiency, or at least the appearance of those, over weakness, pain, and dependence.
Now another take-away, from the Gospel this week, is that we are all being called to take up our cross expecting that God is most clearly and fully present in the suffering and brokenness of the world. We are called to take up our cross by being honest about our brokenness. And thereby demonstrate our willingness to enter into the brokenness of others. We are called to take up our cross because we follow the One who not only took up his cross for us, but also revealed that nothing in this world can defeat the love, and light, and life of God.
Denying brokenness and pain may be incredibly understandable. Just as understandable as Peter being struck sideways by the possibility that God’s promised Messiah had come not to conquer and rule but rather to suffer and die.
No wonder Peter rebuked Jesus. Peter knew where to look for God and it was in places of strength. For this reason alone, he could only imagine that grief, loss, betrayal, suffering, and death were things to avoid at all costs.
Because for Peter they might seem to be, even quite literally, God-forsaken. Yet in the cross God demonstrates that there is no place God refuses to go in the quest to love and redeem us.
But let’s be clear that entering into another’s pain or loss is not the end of the story.
When we embrace each other’s brokenness we experience that God is with us through the cross. Then we can hear and experience God calling us to life and courage, in and through the resurrection. And just how that resurrection call will take shape is hard to predict.
Perhaps it is to believe without question the person who has shared a story of assault; or to stand with a person seeking fair treatment.
Perhaps it will be to keep faith with the one who no longer remembers you because of dementia. Or, to hold vigil with someone near death’s door. Perhaps it will just be to call for action when action needs to be taken.
However God’s cross and resurrection call comes, embracing another’s pain will not stop with thoughts and prayers but move us also to love, and to take action with and on behalf of those for whom we are praying.
When we discover that God is not absent but indeed fully and powerfully present in our brokenness, it transforms how we look at everything in the world, which can embolden us to bravely face the struggles of this life.
After all, if loss and suffering and death cannot separate us from God’s love, then just what is there to fear?
This is not an easy road, but it can start – needs to start – by recognizing that what unites us – to each other and to Christ – is our suffering. Suffering that should not be glorified, but nevertheless hallowed by God’s commitment to be joined to it. If we can share a moment of candor and vulnerability with one another, we can make room for God’s cross and resurrection to encounter, call, and eventually transform us.
Amen +
We give thanks for your everlasting covenant, by which we put our faith in you, counting on it as righteousness,
and calling us to take up our cross and follow Christ in ways that lead us to new life. +
Some may see within this Sunday’s readings a call to be patient and long-suffering in the pursuit of worthy and just causes. In a sense, to have faith in God to take up our own cross. A message we might be able to sympathize over, especially while enduring consequences of a pandemic that may feel never-ending.
Others may hear God’s promise that in all things, even something as awful as the cross, we are called to work together. For as Paul wrote (in Romans 8:28): All things work together for good to those who love God. Today Jesus invites each of us to take up our own cross and to face our struggles by trusting that God is in control.
Which is a message that might provide some comfort during health and safety challenges, and even the pain of difficult economic times. Others may still try to rely on things they used in their past, solely for their own well-being, rather than pursuing the tough work of seeking justice, health and security for all.
Perhaps this week’s passage is calling us to embrace the pain of others – rather than explain it away, or just seek to comfort or merely decry it – by trusting that God is in the midst of our brokenness, working for us by calling us to help one another.
Let me try to unpack that a little bit. Imagine how it must have pained Jesus to reveal to his closest friends that he was taking them on a path that was going to lead to suffering, rejection, and ultimately bring even death.
We want our friends not to worry, not to dread what lies ahead, and yet we want to be able to be honest, fully known and accepted. We want to break down the walls between us and let ourselves be accepted for who we are. But what happens if being seen causes pain?
Peter revealing his own fear and love rebukes Jesus for saying that he will suffer and die: [Brah] Don’t say things like that! And, like a brother putting him in a head lock, Jesus responds right back, telling Peter: You are not seeing the way God sees.
How hard it is really hear each other, yet how much greater is the pain of not being heard. Peter’s pain comes from not being able to listen all the way. He hears nothing after the words suffer and be killed. By being so afraid of facing pain he missed the rest of the story.
He misses the rising again. The soul of what matters, the really Good News for all of us, if we are able to listen to the whole story.
Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve been struck over the years that perhaps the one thing that unifies us most fully is that each of us has experienced brokenness. It may be the abandonment of a parent, the betrayal of a loved one, the loss of a child, the death of a dream, the oppression of those who hold power, or any number of other things. Yet this fact remains: to live is to struggle, to hurt, and to experience loss and brokenness.
I’ve also been struck by the reality that on most occasions we would prefer to hide that brokenness from others. Perhaps that desire comes from some kind of embarrassment – as we do not know if others will respect us if we let down our guard and show our wounds.
Then again perhaps it is the fear of being vulnerable – or being overwhelmed by loss and grief. Varying from occasion to occasion, many tend to favor strength, health, and self-sufficiency, or at least the appearance of those, over weakness, pain, and dependence.
Now another take-away, from the Gospel this week, is that we are all being called to take up our cross expecting that God is most clearly and fully present in the suffering and brokenness of the world. We are called to take up our cross by being honest about our brokenness. And thereby demonstrate our willingness to enter into the brokenness of others. We are called to take up our cross because we follow the One who not only took up his cross for us, but also revealed that nothing in this world can defeat the love, and light, and life of God.
Denying brokenness and pain may be incredibly understandable. Just as understandable as Peter being struck sideways by the possibility that God’s promised Messiah had come not to conquer and rule but rather to suffer and die.
No wonder Peter rebuked Jesus. Peter knew where to look for God and it was in places of strength. For this reason alone, he could only imagine that grief, loss, betrayal, suffering, and death were things to avoid at all costs.
Because for Peter they might seem to be, even quite literally, God-forsaken. Yet in the cross God demonstrates that there is no place God refuses to go in the quest to love and redeem us.
But let’s be clear that entering into another’s pain or loss is not the end of the story.
When we embrace each other’s brokenness we experience that God is with us through the cross. Then we can hear and experience God calling us to life and courage, in and through the resurrection. And just how that resurrection call will take shape is hard to predict.
Perhaps it is to believe without question the person who has shared a story of assault; or to stand with a person seeking fair treatment.
Perhaps it will be to keep faith with the one who no longer remembers you because of dementia. Or, to hold vigil with someone near death’s door. Perhaps it will just be to call for action when action needs to be taken.
However God’s cross and resurrection call comes, embracing another’s pain will not stop with thoughts and prayers but move us also to love, and to take action with and on behalf of those for whom we are praying.
When we discover that God is not absent but indeed fully and powerfully present in our brokenness, it transforms how we look at everything in the world, which can embolden us to bravely face the struggles of this life.
After all, if loss and suffering and death cannot separate us from God’s love, then just what is there to fear?
This is not an easy road, but it can start – needs to start – by recognizing that what unites us – to each other and to Christ – is our suffering. Suffering that should not be glorified, but nevertheless hallowed by God’s commitment to be joined to it. If we can share a moment of candor and vulnerability with one another, we can make room for God’s cross and resurrection to encounter, call, and eventually transform us.
Amen +