During the pandemic, like a lot of people who suddenly found themselves with far too much unstructured time, I developed a slight YouTube addiction. While some people were mastering sourdough or learning foreign languages, I found myself drawn into a very specific rabbit hole: young people buying unbelievably beat-up fixer-uppers and attempting to restore them without losing their minds or their life savings.
There’s one channel in particular I keep coming back to. It’s run by a young woman originally from Louisville who moved out to a tiny town in North Dakota. She became popular because the very first house she bought in that town was sold to her for exactly one dollar. Now, whenever a property is priced lower than a gas station cup of coffee, you know there’s gotta be a catch. Undeterred, she made it her personal mission to take that dollar house—and then other abandoned properties in that small town—rehab them, and bring a little life back to the town.
If you’ve ever renovated an older home, you know the most head-scratching drama usually happens at a seam—where the original house meets a later addition. Underneath a fresh coat of paint, that seam hides the real surprises: leaks, rotted joists, and sloping floors. Often, unless both structures are tied into a single foundation, the whole house runs on wishful thinking.
For seven years now, our church family has been living inside an addition.
Seven years ago, two distinct congregations came together under one roof. Today, our worship rises as one sound, and that initial logistical awkwardness is long gone. Yet if we are honest, that seam does still exist. It can show up in subtle assumptions, unspoken friction around new decisions, and nostalgic whispers: “That’s not how we used to do it at…fill in the blank.
We are living at the seam. To see how God addresses a community at such a threshold, listen to Joshua 24:
Then Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem and summoned the elders, the heads, the judges, and the officers of Israel, and they presented themselves before God. And Joshua said to all the people, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Long ago your ancestors—Terah and his sons Abraham and Nahor—lived beyond the Euphrates and served other gods. Then I took your father Abraham from beyond the River and led him through all the land of Canaan and made his offspring many. I gave him Isaac, and to Isaac I gave Jacob and Esau. I gave Esau the hill country of Seir to possess, but Jacob and his children went down to Egypt. Then I sent Moses and Aaron, and I plagued Egypt with what I did in its midst, and afterward I brought you out. When I brought your ancestors out of Egypt, you came to the sea, and the Egyptians pursued your ancestors with chariots and horsemen to the Red Sea. When they cried out to the Lord, he put darkness between you and the Egyptians and made the sea come upon them and cover them, and your eyes saw what I did to Egypt. Afterward you lived in the wilderness a long time. Then I brought you to the land of the Amorites, who lived on the other side of the Jordan; they fought with you, and I handed them over to you, and you took possession of their land, and I destroyed them before you. Then King Balak son of Zippor of Moab set out to fight against Israel. He sent and invited Balaam son of Beor to curse you, but I would not listen to Balaam; therefore he blessed you, so I rescued you out of his hand. When you went over the Jordan and came to Jericho, the citizens of Jericho fought against you, as well as the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Girgashites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites, and I handed them over to you. I sent swarms of hornets ahead of you that drove out before you the two kings of the Amorites; it was not by your sword or by your bow. I gave you a land on which you had not labored and towns that you had not built, and you live in them; you eat the fruit of vineyards and oliveyards that you did not plant.
“Now, therefore, revere the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt and serve the Lord. Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living, but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”
Then the people answered, “Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods, for it is the Lord our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went and among all the peoples through whom we passed, and the Lord drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the Lord, for he is our God.”
But Joshua said to the people, “You cannot serve the Lord, for he is a holy God. He is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will turn and do you harm and consume you, after having done you good.” And the people said to Joshua, “No, we will serve the Lord!” Then Joshua said to the people, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And they said, “We are witnesses.” He said, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.” The people said to Joshua, “The Lord our God we will serve, and him we will obey.” So Joshua made a covenant with the people that day and made statutes and ordinances for them at Shechem. Joshua wrote these words in the book of the law of God, and he took a large stone and set it up there under the oak in the sanctuary of the Lord. --Joshua 24:1-26 (NRSVue)
At Shechem, we read of disparate clans who have gathered with very distinct ancestral memories and old regional gods packed in their luggage. Joshua summons them to confront those legacy loyalties and commit to one shared covenant.
People often rush to verse 15—"Choose this day whom you will serve." But focusing solely on human choice misses the theological center here. As Lutherans, we remember Martin Luther’s Small Catechism: I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ... Grace always comes first.
In verses 3–13, before asking Israel for anything, God recounts seventeen explicit "I" statements: "I took... I led... I gave..." Verse 13 brings it home: "I gave you a land on which you had not labored..."
This is our great equalizer post-merger. Neither of our predecessor congregations saved themselves. We sit here today in a vineyard we did not plant. Long before the merger between Prince of Peace and Wooddale happened on paper, Christ grafted us onto the vine. Realizing that our entire shared life rests on unearned grace transforms former rivals into fellow beggars at the same table.
Only then does Joshua demand they put away foreign gods. Holding onto old church rivalries, keeping score over past decisions, or digging in our heels for the "way we used to do it" is our modern equivalent of worshiping those idols. It anchors us to dead history instead of the resurrection present.
When the people offer easy promises, Joshua stops them cold: "You cannot serve the LORD, for he is a holy God." On human willpower alone, we fail. That is where Shechem points directly to the Gospel. Where human promises fall aparte, Christ stands in the breach, breaking down the dividing walls that set us against one another.
In Deuteronomy 5:3, Moses declares: "Not with our ancestors did the LORD make this covenant, but with us, who are all of us here alive today." God’s covenant isn't an antique heirloom from seven years ago. Christ meets us right now—in real bread, real wine, and real community. True unity means bearing one another's burdens gently, carrying structural weight together because Christ first carried the ultimate burden for us on the cross.
Joshua sets up a large stone under an oak tree as a lasting witness. Scripture tells us Jesus is the chief cornerstone who ties the whole structure together into a single house of God.
After seven years together under a shared roof, it is time to rest fully on that Cornerstone. Let us leave old divides that remain behind. May we bind our gifts into one undivided body—dedicated to serving the crucified and risen Christ who brought us here through grace. Amen.
Preached Sunday, October 18, 2026, at Vista Lutheran Church, St. Louis Park, MN.
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