SERMONS
Harm and Harmony
If a Christmas tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Does it say “ouch”?
Wake up
I’ve had nights where sleep hides from me. On those sleepless nights, I cannot find a comfortable position. My brain is busy–worrying, planning, wondering. I watch the hours tick by and the only way I know I’ve slept is by waking up. I glance at the clock to calculate how many hours it’s been since I last glanced at the clock. Two? Three? Even four?
Kindom
The words King and kingdom stand out in this gospel reading. Kings books and movies are often depicted as either just rulers, or evil tyrants. They rule unquestioned and without the need for their people’s approval. Whether they are just or unjust, they have full control over the lives of their people. When I think of “kings and kingdoms” I think of colonization. I think of wars and famine and an imbalance of power. The opulence of royalty and the devastation of poverty.
Out of the ruins
Of course, our country has ruins. Being from Colorado, I have to name Mesa Verde National Park. These cliff dwellings are the largest archeological site in the United States. They date back to the Ancestral Puebloan people that built these structures in 1000-1100 AD.
Endurance
Empires only last so long, are we living in a crumbling empire? Where are people actually being disappeared to? Is ICE sending them home or to some kind of concentration camps or is this human trafficking? Will we ever have another election? Should I leave the country? How would I even go about doing that and when?
To what end?
Maybe Happy Ending. That’s the provocative title of a Broadway musical that one six Tony awards this past June, including Best Musical. When I first heard that the plot involved two robots that fall in love, I was initially skeptical about seeing it. But two Holy Trinity members told me, “you have to see it. It’s moving and beautiful.” By the way, a Broadway in Chicago touring production will be here fall of 2026.
Everything is temporary
I still remember the phone call. Last Thanksgiving night. Mike called to say that his wife, Theresa, had died unexpectedly her sleep. Theresa, my friend of thirty years. Mike was the one who had health challenges and I was certain Theresa would outlive him.
Looking down on others
Nobody’s immune. I don’t know if the birds do it. I don’t know if the bees do it. But we sure do. We look down on others. We pass judgment. We sneer. We gossip. We find fault. We spruce up our resumes. We curate ourselves on social media. All to puff up our fragile egos. And to look better than other people.
Finding the villain
When we accept that there is no villain, that we’re all villains, then the parable stops being about a Pharisee and a Tax Collector. The focus becomes their prayers. One prays to repent, and he lays himself bare before God. The Pharisee prays a different prayer, and it honestly just sounds incredibly pompous. I couldn’t find a way to relate to it at first. But recently, as I spent time in prayer, I realized that I did relate to the Pharisee.
Why do we keep doing this?
Why do we keep doing this? Going to church. Praying the same things over and over. Hoping for a better world. Protesting and voting and working for justice.
Holy defiance
The widow’s persistence is bold. It’s courageous. It’s a kind of holy defiance.
Love insists
Earlier this week the bishops of our denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, wrote a letter that addresses the civil unrest we’re experiencing, saying “our faith compels us to stand where Jesus stands–with and for those whom society often seeks to exclude, erase or diminish.” The letter reminds us that “Our shared confession, that every person is created in the image of God, (Genesis 1:27) grounds us in the conviction that all people possess inherent dignity.
Like a seed cracked open
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom of acorns nestled at the bottom of a huge old oak tree. The acorn citizens who lived there went about their daily business with great purpose and energy. They would spend all day oiling, polishing and shining their outer shells. They believed this would improve their longevity and overall well-being.
Mustard seeds and the long work of faith
How many of us have ever prayed something like, “Lord, increase my faith”?
Not in the quiet moments when things are going well, but in the middle of chaos—
when the pain of the world feels overwhelming,
when forgiveness feels impossible,
when your soul is tired.
Open to witness
The students in my preaching course at the Lutheran School of Theology are all preaching on this text this coming week. The class works on a two-week cycle: we all study a shared text one week, and then they all prepare sermons on that text for the following week. So, this last Monday we sat in a circle asking questions about this passage from Luke. I asked them to read the text silently, see where questions arose for them, and then we went around sharing one or two of our questions.
Who do you serve?
Let’s look a little deeper. Historically, interest on loans at the time could be as high as 50%. These loans were often made by wealthy elites or Roman colonizers to working-class or peasant farmers. And when the borrowers couldn’t pay — which was often the case — their land would be seized. Little by little, their ancestral land was stolen from them, legally, violently, systematically.
Put it on a pole
In our first reading today, the people have turned against God. And snakes are biting them as punishment. They want to be healed and forgiven. So God tells Moses to take a snake made out of brass—and put it on a pole. When the people look up at it, they would live and not die.
Our wilderness
The verse John 3:16 was the first piece of scripture I memorized. I remember choosing it because it was the easiest and shortest, not really for any important meaning. I had often heard it used to tell others that they were not going to be saved because they weren’t Christians. Or to tell me I don’t believe hard enough.
Give up?
I didn’t come today for an ultimatum from Jesus. Life is hard enough the way it is. I need some good news, some hopeful news. I need some positives, not all the “cannot’s” from Jesus we just heard. You cannot be my disciple unless you give up all your possessions. Unless you hate your family. Unless you hate your life. Unless you take up your cross and follow.
Call to discipleship
Yikes! These words are jarring—not only to us, but probably even more to the first crowds who heard them. In Jesus’ world, family was the foundation of life. It was your safety net, your identity, your livelihood. Family was survival, and to suggest turning away from family would have been unthinkable.