Why Your Biggest Failures are Actually Upward Moves: 5 Surprising Truths About the "Second Half" of Life

 1. Introduction: The Universal Stumbling Stone

Most of us spend the first half of our lives on a high-speed "cruise control," meticulously maintaining a performance designed to convince the world—and ourselves—that we have it all together. We build our egos like skyscrapers, chasing accolades and security, following a script of upward mobility that promises peace if we only "do it right." But eventually, we all encounter the "absurd stumbling stone": a situation we cannot fix, control, explain, or outsmart.

In our performance-driven culture, we view these moments of failure or suffering as dead ends. However, a deeper spiritual wisdom suggests a radical paradox: falling down is often the only way to move truly "upward." This is the core of the "Hero’s Journey"—not a straight line to the top, but a necessary descent into the depths before a true ascent can begin. We move from an egocentric survival to a soul-centric thriving only when we stop trying to win and start learning how to lose.

2. Takeaway #1: The Architecture of "Falling Upward"

There is a fundamental shift that occurs between the morning and the afternoon of a person’s life. As psychiatrist Carl Jung noted, "One cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning." The first half of life is necessarily devoted to forming a healthy ego—the container or "raft" intended to carry us through a dysfunctional world. The second half, however, is about the courage to go inward and let go of that very container.

We often resist this transition because our culture treats failure as a lack of cleverness. In reality, hitting "some kind of bottom" is the prerequisite for the spiritual journey. What feels like a catastrophe to the ego is often the necessary foundation for the soul.

The bottom line of the Gospel is that most of us have to hit some kind of bottom before we even start the real spiritual journey... The falling became the standing. The stumbling became the finding. The dying became the rising. — Richard Rohr

3. Takeaway #2: Your Ladder Might Be Leaning Against the Wrong Wall

Many of us spend decades successfully climbing the ladder of achievement, only to find, as Thomas Merton famously suggested, that the ladder was leaning against the wrong wall all along. This is the crisis of the "false self"—the collection of roles, titles, and mental attachments we mistake for our absolute identity.

Growth in the second half of life is not about adding more to our resumes; it is what Paulo Coelho calls an "un-becoming." It is the process of shedding our relative identity—who we are in relation to our jobs, our status, and our parents' expectations—to find our absolute identity as we are known by the Divine. We must surrender the "passing shell" of the ego to find the "pearl of great price" hidden within. It is a Great Emptying that makes room for a Great Outpouring.

4. Takeaway #3: True Power is "Off-Script"

The trial of Jesus offers a sharp contrast between two types of power. On one side is Annas, the former high priest, who wields "soft power" through defensive secrecy. His authority is fragile, propped up by a late-night, "black site" interrogation style that circumvents the law to protect the status quo. His power is a performance fueled by deep-seated anxiety.

Jesus, however, demonstrates an "inherent authority" that is entirely "off-script." He refuses to play the game of surreptitious interrogation because he is governed by mission rather than fear. While Peter initially attempts to use "retaliatory violence"—acting as a "willing weapon" with his sword in the garden—Jesus chooses vulnerability as his strength.

To move into the second half of life, we must stop being "weapons" (defensive, judgmental, and coercive) and become "witnesses" (candid, open, and governed by integrity). True power is the courage to remain governed by truth even when it leads to the cross.

5. Takeaway #4: Balance is Learned by Falling Off the Bike

We grow spiritually more by "doing it wrong" than by "doing it right." Just as a child learns the physics of balance by repeatedly falling off a bicycle, we learn spiritual resilience through our mistakes.

Those who have never allowed themselves to fall are actually "off balance" without realizing it. Because they have never faced their own limitations, they often become judgmental and fanatical. As Richard Rohr points out, such people often become "elderly without being elders"—they have aged, but they haven't matured into the compassion that only failure can teach. Mistakes are the building blocks of a life-giving perspective; they make us "hard to offend" and easier to live with.

You learn how to recover from falling by falling! It is precisely by falling off the bike many times that you eventually learn what the balance feels like. — Richard Rohr

6. Takeaway #5: The "I Am Not" Identity Crisis

When Peter stands by the "charcoal fire" (Greek: anthrakia) during Jesus’s trial, he is in a "fire of fear." When asked if he is a disciple, he repeatedly says, "I am not." This "I am not" identity stands in stark contrast to Jesus’s centered "I am." It is here we meet what Jung called the "shadow"—that "another whom we do not know" who speaks to us when our performance fails.

Linguistically, the word anthrakia appears only twice in the New Testament: once at Peter's denial and once at his restoration by the risen Jesus on the beach. This tells us that our failures are not final; they are the exact locations where our healing will occur. We are often "wound identified," using our victimhood as a ticket to sympathy. However, the path of the second half of life is to transform these "shadows of our own making" into "sacred wounds" that liberate us and others.

7. Conclusion: The Hero's Journey Awaits

Everything we have experienced until now has been mere preparation. The successes and the crushing failures of the first half of life were simply the construction of the "raft." The tragedy of many lives is that they fall in love with the raft and never step onto the shore.

When the ego is finally emptied, God—like nature—rushes to fill the vacuum with a "Great Outpouring." This is the "sacred dance" of the Trinity, where power is no longer hierarchical or dominating, but circular and shared. In this state of flow, our driving motives are no longer money or approval, but a state of divine union.

Resurrection is only possible after we have "died" to the false self. As you consider your own path, ask yourself: What are you going to do with your now resurrected life? Or, as the poet Mary Oliver famously asked, “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

The Basin and the Arena: 5 Radical Lessons on Vulnerability from the Upper Room

Imagine that specific, shaky feeling that arises when you step into an experience that demands you be seen before you are ready. Perhaps you’ve finally decided to try a yoga class after reading about its benefits. You’ve bought a brand-new mat, squeezed into stretchy pants, and stepped into the studio—only to find yourself surrounded by people who move with practiced, confident grace. Your heart rate quickens, your palms grow sweaty, and you are suddenly hyper-aware of the potential judgment of others. Every instinct screams at you to turn around and retreat to the safety of the familiar.

This is the raw experience of vulnerability: what researcher Brené Brown defines as "uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure." It is the unstable sensation of loosening control. In our modern lives, we often "armor up" each morning to avoid this discomfort. We use perfectionism, humor, or emotional numbing to "beat vulnerability to the punch," believing that to be powerful is to be invulnerable.

However, the ancient scene in John 13 presents a staggering paradigm shift. In a dusty room on the eve of the Passover, Jesus performs an act that upends our traditional definitions of power and leadership. By examining this ritual through the dual lenses of biblical scholarship and modern psychology, we find five radical lessons on what it means to live "all in."

1. Vulnerability is a Power Move, Not a Weakness

There is a profound theological tension in the opening of John 13. The text notes that Jesus acted while "knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands" (John 13:3). It was precisely because Jesus understood his divine power and origin that he possessed the agency to disrobe, don a towel, and kneel at the feet of his students.

While we often mistake vulnerability for fragility, it actually requires great courage. We expect those with the most power to "armor up" and assert dominance. Yet Jesus uses his power to "lay down" (tithemi) his garments—a physical manifestation of choosing exposure over protection. This act shows us that the core of meaningful human experience isn't found in the height of our status, but in the depth of our willingness to be seen in service.

"Vulnerability is the core, the heart, the center of meaningful human experiences." — Brené Brown

2. The Scandal of Receiving Grace

One of the most relatable moments in the narrative is Peter’s sharp protest: "You will never wash my feet" (John 13:8). For many of us, it is far easier to be the one with the towel than the one in the basin. We prefer to "pour out" rather than be "poured into," because receiving requires us to dismantle our self-sufficiency.

This resistance is often a manifestation of perfectionism—what Brown calls a "20-ton shield" intended to prevent us from being truly seen. We see a similar dynamic in the story of Naomi from the book of Ruth. Naomi returned to Bethlehem "weather-worn" and bitter, calling herself "Mara" because she had no illusions of strength left. Like Peter, she had to face the "Dignity of Receiving," allowing another to serve her when she could no longer serve herself. Jesus’s response to Peter—"Unless I wash you, you have no share with me"—reminds us that our "armor" of self-sufficiency actually blocks the grace we seek. God is often most active when we are least in control.

"To refuse service is, at times, to resist grace." — Lara Raji

3. Radical Hospitality Includes Your Enemies

Perhaps the most scandalous aspect of the foot washing is its inclusivity. The text explicitly mentions that the devil had already "put into" (beblēkotos) the heart of Judas the intent to betray (John 13:2). In the Gospel of John, where there are no stories of exorcism or demon possession, this "thrusting" of betrayal into Judas’s heart highlights the psychological gravity of the moment.

Jesus, knowing the betrayal was imminent, did not bypass Judas’s seat. This redefines hospitality from a menial task into a radical act of love that is "untamed" and "not the gatekeeping kind." It transforms the image of the Good Shepherd—who usually walks ahead to lead the flock—into a servant who kneels before a traitor. This suggests that the pattern of ministry Jesus offers is one that does not exclude based on future actions or perceived worthiness.

4. Knowledge is a Trap Without Action

Jesus concludes his teaching with a warning: "If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them" (John 13:17). The Greek word used for "example" in this passage is hypodeigma, which specifically refers to a "pattern for ministry" rather than a simple moral virtue. Jesus isn't just performing a one-time ritual; he is establishing a recurring rhythm of being.

There is a distinct "pain in this kind of knowing." It is not enough to intellectually understand the value of humility; the blessing only arrives when we renounce the privilege and security we so often seek in favor of active service. True "knowing" in this sense requires a total paradigm shift where teacher and student, master and messenger, are leveled. We are called to not just know the words, but to embody the pattern.

"Blessing comes in the living of God's love as Jesus reveals it." — Sarah Henrich

5. Reimagining Glory in the Dust

To understand the weight of Jesus’s actions, we must look at the cultural filth of the first century. The roads were dusty, the sandals were open, and foot washing was a menial task reserved for the lowest slaves. No ancient Greek, Roman, or Jewish source records a person of higher status washing the feet of a subordinate.

Jesus takes this act of humiliation and transforms it into "reimagined glory." He connects this glorification to the "dying of a seed" (John 12:23), showing that life comes through the laying down of self. He also employs a double meaning for the word "wash" (nipto): while it refers to the physical cleansing of dusty feet, it points toward the spiritual cleansing of wrongdoing that only he can offer. By kneeling in the dirt, he proves that those who humble themselves for love’s sake cannot be humiliated.

Conclusion: Stepping into the Arena

Following the "pattern" set in the Upper Room is not about achieving moral perfection; it is about living with "humble hearts and helpful hands." It requires us to leave the sidelines of judgment and step into what Theodore Roosevelt and Brené Brown call "The Arena."

The life of blessing is found in the place where our faces are "marred by dust and sweat and blood," and where we engage fully despite the risk of failure. It is the willingness to choose the basin over the pedestal and the towel over the shield. As we move through our own modern wilderness, we must ask ourselves:

Whose feet are you avoiding washing—or more importantly, in which area of your life are you clutching your 20-ton shield of self-sufficiency and refusing to sit under the towel of another?

Following Jesus: Making Mistakes

Today we make a huge leap in John. Five chapters from Chapter 13’s reading last week of Jesus washing his disciples feet. To chapter 18, today. In these chapters between, Jesus offers his final words to his disciples, where he literally tells them goodbye. It’s where we see Jesus at his most pastoral: as friend, mentor, teacher, lover. The relationship between Jesus and his disciples - the mutual relationship between them - has deepened over the first half of John. This first half spans three years of their life together. The second half of the gospel of John will span one week. 

Most, if not all, of these stories in the second half of John are typically read during Holy Week. But, in this fourth year of the narrative lectionary, we slow it down. Dramatically. Stretching out each of these scenes that we call the passion of Jesus. The suffering of Jesus. We dive deeply into each one of them. As we try to make meaning from them for our own lives.

Then the company of soldiers, the commander, and the guards from the Jewish leaders took Jesus into custody. They bound him and led him first to Annas. He was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. (Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jewish leaders that it was better for one person to die for the people.)

Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Because this other disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the high priest’s courtyard. However, Peter stood outside near the gate. Then the other disciple (the one known to the high priest) came out and spoke to the woman stationed at the gate, and she brought Peter in. The servant woman stationed at the gate asked Peter, “Aren’t you one of this man’s disciples?”

“I’m not,” he replied. The servants and the guards had made a fire because it was cold. They were standing around it, warming themselves. Peter joined them there, standing by the fire and warming himself.

Meanwhile, the chief priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching. Jesus answered, “I’ve spoken openly to the world. I’ve always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews gather. I’ve said nothing in private. Why ask me? Ask those who heard what I told them. They know what I said.”

After Jesus spoke, one of the guards standing there slapped Jesus in the face. “Is that how you would answer the high priest?” he asked.

Jesus replied, “If I speak wrongly, testify about what was wrong. But if I speak correctly, why do you strike me?” Then Annas sent him, bound, to Caiaphas the high priest.

Meanwhile, Simon Peter was still standing with the guards, warming himself. They asked, “Aren’t you one of his disciples?”

Peter denied it, saying, “I’m not.”

A servant of the high priest, a relative of the one whose ear Peter had cut off, said to him, “Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?” Peter denied it again, and immediately a rooster crowed.

I’d like you to visualize a place for just a moment. It’s a happy place - the place where you feel most loved and accepted. A place where you are surrounded by those who are your closest friends and family, with whom you have the deepest of relationships. It’s also a beautiful place, a garden that has the loveliest of flowers and green trees. A place that seems Eden-like. Where, when the breeze blows you can hear it gently moving through the leaves of the trees. And feel it cooling your skin. Where, with your loved ones, led by a beloved mentor, you’re able to talk about the most important things of life- to learn from one another. The most stunning thing about this is that you have come to the realization that this mentor, this teacher and shepherd, is God in the flesh.

Now imagine that, one day, while you are there together, one of your group suddenly shows up with a cohort of nearly 600 soldiers, who’ve come to arrest your beloved mentor and teacher. Can you imagine the emotion in that moment? The hurt and the betrayal you feel? The anger that begins to burn inside you? Can you feel the fear in your gut, as you watch him taken away, wondering if you’re next? But, then, your mentor, who seems completely in control of this situation, steps in and convinces the soldiers that he is the one they want. “I am he,” he tells them. Not once, but three times. He convinces them to leave everyone else behind. They take him away. And all the others leave. Except for you. And one other disciple.

You’re name is Peter. That’s right. Peter. Petros. Meaning rock. You don’t know it yet, but you are the one who will become an important leader in building similar communities. These will be so different from other communities in the world, because they will be open and accepting of everyone. A place of deep love and intimacy. Just as you experienced that first time. Communities so countercultural that, in fact, you will lose your life, killed by a world that resists the transforming power of love.

But, you’re not there yet. Because you have mistakes to make. A huge mistake, really, that will make you feel ashamed. For which you will grieve deeply. But, it is a mistake for which you will be forgiven and that will change you in ways you cannot yet fully understand.

That day, friends, after the incident in the garden, Peter and and the other disciple followed Jesus to the home of Annas, then to Caiaphas. Two trials are interwoven in the story of that day. One trial is that of Jesus. But, the other is that of Peter. The disciple in last week’s story who, first, refused to have his feet washed by Jesus. But, then, quickly was “all in.” 

We see these two stories interwoven in our text today, which begins with Jesus being questioned by Annas, a former high priest. Outside, at the same time, another story is taking place. Peter is being questioned about who he is. Three times he’s asked, “Aren’t you one of his disciples?” 

But, back inside, when Jesus is asked about who he is and what his teachings are, he says, “Ask those who heard what I told them. They know what I said.” We see that statement being fulfilled outside. Where Peter, the prime apostle, is being questioned about Jesus at that moment in the courtyard. Here is his big chance. But, instead of confessing Jesus, he denies him. And, particularly, denies that he is a disciple of Jesus, thus, denying his own identity.

Who are you in this story? This story holds a mirror up to each one of us. 

Are you Jesus, willingly being arrested, knowing what is to come? That’s perhaps a little doubtful. But, if you think you are living as Jesus would, perhaps, it’s time to look more deeply inside yourself. At the hubris that exists within you. 

Are you Peter, the disciple that is “all in”? Well, most of the time. But not when it really counts. Who, when the pressure is on, denies his own discipleship of Jesus. His own identity as a follower and seeker of Jesus. Now, for some of us, that’s maybe more likely.

Or are you, perhaps, Annas or Caiaphas? Religious leaders that are so concerned about protecting established religion, established denominations, that they are in danger of denying the very essence of what worship of God is all about. I wonder who of us are guilty of this?

And there’s one more character. The unnamed disciple with connections. Who is able to accompany Jesus, but unable to - or unwilling to - stop what is happening or what will come. To change the outcome.

Perhaps there’s a bit of all of these characters in us. We try to be like Jesus, but are often more like Peter. Or the unnamed disciple. Or like Annas and Caiaphas. 

This is who we are. This is what we do. We try. But we make mistakes. Big ones at times. Denying our own identities in Christ. Unable to fully follow him. Hung up on the trappings of religion so that we lose sight of what it really means to worship God. 

The thing is God knows this. God knows that this is who we are. That we cannot do this alone. That there are deep gaps in our own ability to do this. Not that we don’t try to follow and continuously seek out Jesus. But, that there are times and places where we fail. Mistakes. Gaps. 

God fills in those gaps. And only God can fill in those gaps. Fully. This God we follow, mistakes and all. Who overflows with grace. Who is rich in love. For us. Who fills in the gaps and smooths over our mistakes. And who welcomes us back to that garden. That place of deep relationship and belonging. That place where we might have abundant life. Now. And later. Scars and all.

Thanks be to God!

Preached March 20, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.

Third Sunday of Lent

Readings: John 18:12-17, Psalm 17:1-7

Encountering the Messiah: Come and See

On the last Sunday of Advent, we first began our reading in the gospel of John with the Prologue - the first eighteen verses of John that set forth many of the themes and ideas that encompass the entire gospel. Over Christmas, we took a slight detour in Luke and Matthew, as we heard parts of the birth narrative of Christ, something that John doesn’t have.

Today, we return to John, where we will remain through the spring. and continue reading through the first chapter. Our reading today is in two parts. 

This is John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him, “Who are you?”

John confessed (he didn’t deny but confessed), “I’m not the Christ.”

They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?”

John said, “I’m not.”

“Are you the prophet?”

John answered, “No.”

They asked, “Who are you? We need to give an answer to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?”

John replied,

“I am a voice crying out in the wilderness,

    Make the Lord’s path straight,

    just as the prophet Isaiah said.”

Those sent by the Pharisees asked, “Why do you baptize if you aren’t the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?”

John answered, “I baptize with water. Someone greater stands among you, whom you don’t recognize. He comes after me, but I’m not worthy to untie his sandal straps.” This encounter took place across the Jordan in Bethany where John was baptizing.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one about whom I said, ‘He who comes after me is really greater than me because he existed before me.’ Even I didn’t recognize him, but I came baptizing with water so that he might be made known to Israel.” John testified, “I saw the Spirit coming down from heaven like a dove, and it rested on him. Even I didn’t recognize him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit coming down and resting is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and testified that this one is God’s Son.” --John 1:19-34 (CEB)

In this first portion of today’s story, John was asked many questions about who he was. The priests and Levites asked if he was one of the characters from the Old Testament who had come back, but he wasn’t.

We’re going to do something a little different today to begin. I’m going to read some clues and I’m going to invite you to help identify the person from the Old Testament that I’m referring to.

I moved from Haran.
I am the father of many descendants.
Once I almost sacrificed my son. I am… (Abraham)

I grew up in Egypt.
My mother saved my life by putting me in a basket.
I heard God’s call in a burning bush. I am… (Moses)

I am a prophet.
I stood up to the false prophets of Baal.
I heard God’s voice in the wilderness as a “still, small voice.” I am… (Elijah)

The priests and Levites in today’s reading thought that John the Baptist was Moses or Elijah who had come back. But, John told them that he wasn’t. Instead, he told them that he had a special role to prepare the way for Jesus, the Messiah. He had an important job to help others recognize Jesus.

If I hold up a bundle of Christmas lights, they look like a tangled mess, don’t they? But these Christmas lights remind me a little bit of the prophets. The prophets were messengers from God - it’s as though they were little lights, one after the other, illuminating a little bit more of God’s character. And of God’s promises. In fact, many of the prophets spoke of God’s promise to send a Messiah.

However, sometimes the messages from the prophets were confusing. Or even seemed unlikely. For example, was it true that the Messiah could really come from tiny Bethlehem?

It’s sort of like that string of Christmas lights I mentioned. Even though there are a lot of little lights, just like there were a lot of prophets, it seemed hard to get the whole picture. Sometimes the messages seemed tangled or unclear. God’s people were waiting for the Messiah, but it was difficult to see how all these little lights worked together. It was like there was a missing piece. 

There was a missing piece. This is where John came in. The priests and the Levites thought he was one of those earlier prophets, like Moses or Elijah. They even asked him if he was the Messiah. But, John very quickly responded that he was not. Yet, John had a specific job. (Straighten lights.) He was the one who was supposed to take what might be a tangled string of promises and “make straight” the path to Jesus. He was the one to point to Jesus. To connect the dots. And to reveal that Jesus was the one they had all been waiting for. (Turn on lights.) In some ways, he turned the lights on for them, so they would understand that Jesus was the Promised One, the light of the world.

Our reading continues.

The next day John was standing again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus walking along he said, “Look! The Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard what he said, and they followed Jesus.

When Jesus turned and saw them following, he asked, “What are you looking for?”

They said, “Rabbi (which is translated Teacher), where are you staying?”

He replied, “Come and see.” So they went and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon.

One of the two disciples who heard what John said and followed Jesus was Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter. He first found his own brother Simon and said to him, “We have found the Messiah” (which is translated Christ ). He led him to Jesus.

Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon, son of John. You will be called Cephas” (which is translated Peter).

The next day Jesus wanted to go into Galilee, and he found Philip. Jesus said to him, “Follow me.” Philip was from Bethsaida, the hometown of Andrew and Peter.

Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law and the Prophets: Jesus, Joseph’s son, from Nazareth.”

Nathanael responded, “Can anything from Nazareth be good?”

Philip said, “Come and see.”

Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said about him, “Here is a genuine Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

Nathanael asked him, “How do you know me?”

Jesus answered, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.”

Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are God’s Son. You are the king of Israel.”

Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these! I assure you that you will see heaven open and God’s angels going up to heaven and down to earth on the Human One.” --John 1:35-51 (CEB)

Just as God chose John, Jesus chose his disciples. In our reading, Jesus chooses them very quickly. Do you remember how many names you heard in this reading? How many people Jesus chose in the first few days of his public ministry? Can you help me name them? (John, Andrew, Simon (Cephas/Peter), Philip, Nathanael)

Simon, who we also know as Peter, was nicknamed Cephas, which means “rock.” He likely didn’t yet understand why Jesus had given him this name. Yet, we know, these centuries later, that Simon Peter, even after later denying Christ before his crucifixion, would become a strong leader in the early church, like a rock. Peter didn’t know it then. But, Jesus did.

Then, there’s Nathanael. I particularly like Nathanael for his sarcasm. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” It’s like saying - if you’re a member of Grace & Glory, “Can anything good come out of Jefferson County?” Or conversely, if you’re a member at Third, “Can anything good come out of Oldham County?” Nathanael was a skeptic. A doubter. The one to question things. But, Jesus could see who he would also become. So, just as Jesus called Peter for who he was and who he would become, Jesus also called Nathanael for who he was and who he would become.

You and I, we are all very different people. We come from different backgrounds and experiences. Some of us very quickly follow when we’re invited in. Others of us hold back and, perhaps, follow, but with just a few more questions, maybe a few more doubts. Whether we feel like a rock like Peter or feel like we don’t even know that that means. Whether we have a lot of questions or not that many, Jesus has called each of us to be his disciples, too. And to come together, with all of our different experiences and backgrounds and ways of being, to grow deeper in our discipleship in Christ. All Jesus calls us to is to follow. In that following we learn answers to our questions and sometimes have more questions. But, most importantly, we learn to trust Jesus as the one leading, even when that means we are not quite sure where he will take us.

May we lean deeply into what it means to follow - to be Jesus’ disciples. May we open ourselves up to trust where Jesus might be leading us. And may we, like his early disciples, be willing and vulnerable enough to point the way to Jesus, to invite others to “Come and see” so that we might, together, “see greater things than these.” Amen.

Preached January 9, 2022, online with Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Epiphany 1

Readings: John 1:19-51; Psalm 66:1-5

Birth of the Church: Being Radical

Last week, we heard about a conflict in the church in Antioch - a division between Jewish and Gentile Christians - that was resolved through listening and compromise at the first ecumenical council in Jerusalem.

As we near the end of the Narrative Lectionary year, we will be spending this last three weeks in Galatians - Paul’s letter to the churches in Galatia, including the church in Antioch. This letter provides us with a view of Paul’s perspective of the disagreement we first heard about last week. This letter is also central to our Christian faith and our understanding of the doctrine of justification. It is also a letter that is often called the Magna Carta on Christian freedom. 

So, this morning, we read in Galatians, chapters 1 and 2.

You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.

But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood self-condemned; for until certain people came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But after they came, he drew back and kept himself separate for fear of the circumcision faction. And the other Jews joined him in this hypocrisy, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy. But when I saw that they were not acting consistently with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas before them all, “If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?”

We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners; yet we know that a person is justified not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ. And we have come to believe in Christ Jesus, so that we might be justified by faith in Christ, and not by doing the works of the law, because no one will be justified by the works of the law. But if, in our effort to be justified in Christ, we ourselves have been found to be sinners, is Christ then a servant of sin? Certainly not! But if I build up again the very things that I once tore down, then I demonstrate that I am a transgressor. For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing. --Galatians 1:13-17; 2:11-21 (NRSV)

Have you ever struggled with playing it safe instead of being radical? 

A few years ago in my former church in Pasadena, we experienced this. For several years, we had professed and believed that we were a hospitable congregation, welcoming all people. And, for the most part, we were.

Yet, we had a problem with the homeless population in our neighborhood. They liked to camp out overnight on the church property. Usually, though, if we gave them a little cash or let them use the phone or internet, or allowed them to stay overnight, well, eventually, they would move on. 

But, then, Monica and Vern arrived. (I’ve changed their names.) They lived in a beat up, broken-down van - a van they parked at the edge of our parking lot. Figuring they would move on as so many others had, we were polite. And helpful. And hopeful that they would eventually leave.

But, they didn’t leave. In fact, they started to push themselves into our congregation. When we opened up on Sunday morning, Vern was right there to help set up tables for morning fellowship. Both of them began coming to Sunday morning Bible study. Monica asked if she could sing in the choir. And on and on. They just continued to push their way in the
congregation.

Now mind you, most congregations would be thrilled with newcomers like this. How often do we proclaim our openness to visitors and our desire for them to become a part of us? How thrilled we would be if newcomers wanted to immediately become so involved!

To be truthful, we weren’t really all that thrilled. We weren’t thrilled because Monica and Vern were so different from us. For one thing, they were homeless. For another, well, they didn’t have regular access to showers. And so, sometimes, they smelled a little. Sometimes, they smelled a lot. They didn’t always say or do the “right” things. They didn’t fit into our norm. Into our small-minded, closed-hearted norm of what our church should look like.

And so, we struggled with being radical people. With being followers of a radical Gospel that teaches us that each one of us is enough and is good enough. That God has done it all for us and for every person. That there is nothing - nothing - we need do to be made righteous. That all of us, whether Jew or Gentile, whether white or black, whether gay or straight, whether binary or non-binary, all of us are made righteous before God through Christ Jesus. That is radical.

But, that’s not all. For too long we have used language that has rejected the validity of the covenant of God with the Jewish people. Parts of this letter, written by Paul, were used in the mid-20th century as a basis to extinguish the lives of millions of people. Even Luther, in his writings, used this part of Galatians to malign the Jews.  Because in large part, we have misconstrued what Paul is saying here. 

After decades of scholarship, it is now generally recognized that first-century Jews didn’t actually think that their “right status” with God came from keeping the Torah. Instead, like us, they believed they were saved solely by God’s grace. But, they also believed that their saved status was demonstrated by their obedience to the Torah, practices that marked them as God’s people, that set them apart. 

So, when Paul writes in chapter 2 that a person is justified not by the works of the law but through faith, this is not a diatribe against Judaism and the keeping of the Torah. Paul was a Jew, who kept the Torah religiously. Instead, if we look in the first chapter of Galatians, verse 16, we have a clue. Here Paul notes that Jesus was revealed to be God’s Son so that he might “proclaim him among the Gentiles.” Woven into the letter to the Galatians is a key idea - that the ancient promise of God - the covenant with Abraham to bless all the families of the world through his people - is now being fulfilled by the Messiah, Jesus. Christianity is not superior to Judaism. Rather, as one theologian puts it, “Christianity exists as the gracious fulfillment of the already gracious Judaism. It is the climax of the covenant, fulfilled in Jesus, through whom, as John writes, we have received grace upon grace upon grace. The holy Scripture tells this story - of how God’s past, present and future grace goes forth from Israel to the world through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ.

So, when Paul opposes Peter to his face, it’s not because Peter was a legalist, attempting to earn his way into heaven. Instead, Paul is saying Peter was acting hypocritically by leading others in a way that was out of step, even contrary, to the multi-ethnic, cross-cultural, radical nature of the gospel. By refusing to eat with Gentile Christians when a faction of Jewish Christians arrived in Antioch, Peter was essentially saying that there were two classes of Christians, divided by ethnic lines. And that to be a “real” Christian, one must live according to the markers of the Torah. But, Paul was having none of that. Because Paul’s idea of justification by faith in this letter is not an individual act of inclusion, but a communal act of inclusion - bringing the non-Jews into the sect of Jesus believers. It answers the question of who’s in and who’s not. For Paul, because of the radical faithfulness of Christ, nobody is out. Everybody is in. 

Monica and Vern eventually became a beloved part of our Pasadena church. Members. We learned to live into being the radical people of love that the Gospel called us to be. And, when they decided to move on, nearly two years later, we were heartbroken to see them go. 

This is what it means to be radical people of a radical Gospel, whether we are from Galatia or Pasadena, from Goshen or Louisville. To be people reaching out by grace to grab for dear life onto the perfect divine life of Jesus Christ, given for us. To be a new creation, given a new status. Included. Transformed by grace. To love. Deeply. According to the will of our God and Father. 

To God be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Preached May 9, 2021, online with Grace & Glory Lutheran/Goshen, KY, and Third Lutheran/Louisville, KY.

Easter 6

Readings: Galatians 1:13-17, 2:11-21; Luke 18:9-14

Birth of the Church: The Old and the New

Our story today begins with a conflict. It is a disagreement between Jesus followers over what is required for salvation.

The story last week about the Ethiopian eunuch marks a dividing point in Acts. Between the ministry that, to this point, has been primarily to Jews and those who worshipped the God of Israel, and the ministry to the Gentiles, which, in the Jewish perspective, is everyone else. 

In between last week’s and this week’s reading, we see the beginning of the church’s ministry to the Gentiles. These chapters include the conversion of Saul, who will change his name as he begins his own ministry with Barnabas, his colleague and companion. They travel to Antioch, which is a town, north of Judea, in present-day Syria.

But, it’s not only Paul and Barnabas who are preaching the Good News of Jesus to Gentiles. In Acts 10, Peter has a transformative experience. A vision that leads him to Cornelius, a Gentile, God-fearing centurion who belongs to the Italian Cohort - a unit of archers, that is based at the Roman administrative center in Caesarea. In his vision, Peter receives a message - that he is not to call anything “unclean” that God has made “clean.” It is a genesis moment for Peter, who will then, like Paul and Barnabas, begin in earnest to share the Good News with Gentiles.

But, there is a problem. A conflict. A theological question around the issue of circumcision. “How could a Gentile possibly participate in the blessings promised to the covenant people?” In short, how can Gentiles be saved, without being circumcised? The concern is not about exclusion because of race, but inclusion within God’s covenant.

Our reading is from Acts, chapter 15. 

Then certain individuals came down from Judea and were teaching the brothers, “Unless you are circumcised according to the custom of Moses, you cannot be saved.” And after Paul and Barnabas had no small dissension and debate with them, Paul and Barnabas and some of the others were appointed to go up to Jerusalem to discuss this question with the apostles and the elders. So they were sent on their way by the church, and as they passed through both Phoenicia and Samaria, they reported the conversion of the Gentiles, and brought great joy to all the believers. When they came to Jerusalem, they were welcomed by the church and the apostles and the elders, and they reported all that God had done with them. But some believers who belonged to the sect of the Pharisees stood up and said, “It is necessary for them to be circumcised and ordered to keep the law of Moses.”

The apostles and the elders met together to consider this matter. After there had been much debate, Peter stood up and said to them, “My brothers, you know that in the early days God made a choice among you, that I should be the one through whom the Gentiles would hear the message of the good news and become believers. And God, who knows the human heart, testified to them by giving them the Holy Spirit, just as he did to us; and in cleansing their hearts by faith he has made no distinction between them and us. Now therefore why are you putting God to the test by placing on the neck of the disciples a yoke that neither our ancestors nor we have been able to bear? On the contrary, we believe that we will be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they will.”

The whole assembly kept silence, and listened to Barnabas and Paul as they told of all the signs and wonders that God had done through them among the Gentiles. After they finished speaking, James replied, “My brothers, listen to me. Simeon has related how God first looked favorably on the Gentiles, to take from among them a people for his name. This agrees with the words of the prophets, as it is written,

‘After this I will return,

and I will rebuild the dwelling of David, which has fallen;

    from its ruins I will rebuild it,

        and I will set it up,

so that all other peoples may seek the Lord—

    even all the Gentiles over whom my name has been called.

        Thus says the Lord, who has been making these things known from long ago.’ 

--Acts 15:1-18 (NRSV)

The disagreement begins in Antioch. Other apostles, presumably in good faith, have come into the community and have begun to preach that, in order for Gentiles to be saved, they must be circumcised. Paul and Barnabas get into it with these apostles. We can only imagine the argument that must have occurred. 

It is agreed among church leaders that Paul and Barnabas and a few others should go to the elder apostles of the church in Jerusalem, bringing this question. They recognize that, to require circumcision of every male believer in the Antioch church would be viewed as culturally inappropriate - an act of mutilation. 

So, Paul and Barnabas and the others go. As they travel south, going through other Gentile countries, they begin to witness how broadly the Holy Spirit has been at work. By the time they reach Jerusalem they are overjoyed with what they have seen on their travels. The council in Jerusalem also rejoice over this news. Except for a few, who continue to insist that the Gentile believers must be circumcised.

Notice what happens next. Paul and Barnabas and Peter don’t simply write off the council in Jerusalem. Instead, they honor this relationship. And together enter into dialogue about what to do.

Peter begins. Reminding them of his earlier revelation from God and his experience with Cornelius. He argues from a position of grace - of inclusive grace - that there is no difference between “them” and “us” - between the Jewish and Gentile believers. That, if the leadership requires the same yoke of circumcision on the Gentiles they will not simply be burdening them, but will be putting God to the test. Because it is clear to them that God, through the Holy Spirit, has been at work among these believers.

The leaders are silent. They do not interrupt or disagree. They simply listen to Peter’s argument. Then, Paul and Barnabas share their experiences. What they have been witness to in their ministry. The signs and wonders that God has been doing in the midst of these Gentile communities.

When they finish, notice what happens next. Each side makes concessions for the sake of unity. No longer will circumcision be required for Gentiles believers. Yet, these same believers will be required to engage in certain practices that all believers - Jewish and Gentile - will be compelled to follow.

What’s the lesson for us in this text? Perhaps it's that none of our own experiences are better or worse than any others - they are just different. We all come to faith in our own ways. We come with different histories, perspectives, and expectations. These different perceptions are not right or wrong - they just are. It’s part of the joy and the frustration of bringing people together. Yet, when we learn to listen to each other, to our leadership, and to the Word of God, and we are all working on the same goal - sharing the Good News of life through Jesus - we can learn to work together, despite our differences.

What are the yokes we need to shed? How are we constraining the work of the Holy Spirit? As we begin to move out of pandemic life, these are questions that we must be asking. And, like the early church, may we err on the side of grace, inclusiveness, love, and unity. Because these are the markers of the church. These are the markers of God. Yesterday, today, forever. Amen.

Preached May 9, 2021, online with Grace & Glory Lutheran, Goshen, KY, and Third Lutheran, Louisville, KY.

Easter 5

Readings: Acts 15:1-18, Luke Luke 2:29-32

The Power of the Kingdom: Who Are You?

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Welcome to Transfiguration Sunday and to the end of the Epiphany season! 

Several weeks ago, we talked about the meaning of this word, epiphany. Anyone want to venture a definition? An epiphany can be an idea, a new thought, perhaps even a new understanding. The season of Epiphany is quite similar. It’s a season of revelation, of stories that tell us who Jesus is.

If you think all the way back to early January, when we first moved into the gospel of Mark, do you remember how the gospel opened? “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Soon after, at Jesus’ baptism, we heard the voice from heaven speaking directly to Jesus - “You are my Son, the Beloved,” confirming that this Jesus is the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah long promised. We know this, but, so far only the demons have been able to figure it out, too. The disciples just don’t seem to get it.

This is likely why, in the story just before today’s reading, we witness Jesus healing a blind man. Twice. Because the first time, it doesn’t take. At least not fully. Like the blind man, the disciples are beginning to see, but not clearly. At least, not yet.

Then, we come to the first part of today’s lesson. From Mark, chapter 8. 

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he 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. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” --Mark 8:27-33 (NRSV)

This portion of our reading, often called the “Confession of Peter,” is the literary hinge for the Gospel of Mark. It’s both an ending to the first half of the Gospel and an introduction to the second half.  We are transitioning from Galilee in the north in the first half to Jerusalem in the south in the second. After today’s story, we will begin this journey to the south. To Jerusalem. And to what awaits Jesus there. 

But it has been in Galilee where the main question that Jesus is being asked is “Who are you?” Soon the question will change to “Why are you here?” But, before this happens, Jesus is about to give the disciples a little quiz. To decide how good their sight is. Or isn’t.

“Who do people say that I am?” Jesus asks them.  Immediately, Peter jumps in with a response. “You are the Christ,” he says. We might applaud and cheer him for getting it so right. Except he has gotten it so wrong. Because, Peter doesn’t see. He doesn’t understand who this Jesus is. He has in his mind the traditional picture of the Messiah, of the Christ - a political figure who would wield power and authority and who would free the Jewish people from Roman occupation, restoring the line of King David. This is who Peter understands Jesus to be. It is a picture that he and many others have created in their minds as to what this Messiah will be like, adopting their own idea, rather than God’s idea. An image that is perhaps intensified by the fact that they are in Caesarea Philippi, named in honor of Emperor Augustus Caesar, and the seat of power for the Roman government in this region. 

Thus, we can easily understand why Peter, even after all the time spent with Jesus, would still believe that this was who Jesus was. Because it was this Messiah that fit who Peter was and what he really wanted. Peter and so many others.

Don’t we do the same thing? We fashion Jesus out of who we are and what we want in a savior. Maybe it’s a savior to swoop down and save us when we are done something foolish or made a bad choice. A savior of convenience, who we quickly forget then when things are better. 

Or maybe we try to co-opt Jesus for our own political ends. With both the political left and right in our country trying to claim (or reclaim) Jesus as their own. Each creating an image of the Jesus they want and then co-opting him for their own purposes. To defend their actions. To support a position. To  justify a cause.

Who are you? The answer to that question will identify what your Jesus looks like. Because chances are you, as I, have created Jesus in your image, for your own needs, and as you want him to be.
Just as Jesus did with Peter, he does with us. Rebuking us for thinking human thoughts instead of God’s thoughts.

Who is Jesus? What does it take to be his disciple? We, like Peter and the rest of the disciples, soon find this out. 

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.” And he said to them, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.” --Mark 8:34-9:1 (NRSV)

Jesus tells us to take up our cross. To take up our instrument of death and follow him. Because, to be Jesus’ disciple means we must lose our lives. Our selves. And, particularly, our image of the Messiah as we want him to be. 

One wonders what Peter was thinking after all this. After his picture of who the Messiah was, of who Jesus was had been blown to smithereens. But, soon after, we find ourselves with him and other disciples in a mountaintop experience. 

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. --Mark 9:2-8 (NRSV)

If Peter had been confused before, think of how he felt now. As they watched Jesus transfigured. Saw his face glowing. His clothing turning bright. Witnessing the appearance of Elijah - that great prophet. And Moses - that great law giver. Jesus, surrounded symbolically by the “Law and the Prophets.” And the fulfillment of them. And then that voice from heaven. This time speaking directly to them. This is my Son. Listen to him! It’s no wonder Peter wanted to stay there. To bask in that experience for a little bit. To build a few tents and just camp out there. Because the words Jesus had spoken a few days before, about taking up one’s instrument of death, had stuck with him. Perhaps, terrified him a bit. Here, on the mountain top, he felt safe and secure, basking in the light of Jesus, the very Son of God. 

Sisters and brothers, just as our story today is a literary hinge in the Gospel of Mark, so this Transfiguration Sunday is a hinge between Epiphany and Lent. Between the revelation of who Jesus is and the answer to the question of why he has come. It’s tempting for us to want to stay here, on the mountaintop, where it feels safe and secure. Where we are centered. Where we, like Peter, bask in the glory of God. 

But, this is not who we have been called to be. Instead, we are called down off the mountain, into the messiness and grittiness of our daily lives. Into our communities. Freed as we are to be in service to this place. And, knowing that, as we journey, Jesus accompanies us as he did Peter and the disciples. Teaching us who he is, why he came, and reminding us who we are. Every step of every day for the rest of our lives, into all eternity.

May we bask in the light of our Savior this day. But, may we then gladly go out to be in service to all the world. Amen. 

Preached February 23, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
The Transfiguration of Our Lord
Readings: Mark 8:27-9:8; Malachi 4:4-6; Psalm 27:1-4

Sent With Joy: Telling Our Story

Grace and peace to you from Almighty God - our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.

We ended Matthew last week with the words of the Great Commission - with Jesus sending the disciples out to go and make disciples. To baptize. And to teach. With a promise - that he would be with them always. Matthew ends leaning into the future.  

Today and next week we move into the book of Acts. Now Acts is the next chapter in the story. Acts is about that future. About the work of the disciples. The mission of the church to share the good news of Jesus. In faith. And in doubt. Both, inevitable parts of a life of discipleship.

Our reading this morning is from Acts, chapter 10. It’s the story of the conversion of Cornelius, a centurion in the Roman Guard. But, really, it’s the story of the conversion of Peter. In five scenes.

Scene 1. There was a man in Caesarea named Cornelius, a centurion in the Italian Company. He and his whole household were pious, Gentile God-worshippers. He gave generously to those in need among the Jewish people and prayed to God constantly. One day at nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, he clearly saw an angel from God in a vision. The angel came to him and said, “Cornelius!”

Startled, he stared at the angel and replied, “What is it, Lord?”

The angel said, “Your prayers and your compassionate acts are like a memorial offering to God. Send messengers to Joppa at once and summon a certain Simon, the one known as Peter. He is a guest of Simon the tanner, whose house is near the seacoast.” When the angel who was speaking to him had gone, Cornelius summoned two of his household servants along with a pious soldier from his personal staff. He explained everything to them, then sent them to Joppa. Acts 10:1-8 (CEB)

Our story opens in Caesarea, a prosperous port that served as the Roman capital of Judea. Our focus is on an officer in the Roman guard, named Cornelius. A good Roman name. He is a centurion. In our day that would be equivalent of a colonel. He is no low level character. Instead, he is known for his generosity, for putting his money where his mouth is, and, particularly, for his devotion. Cornelius is a God-worshipper. A Gentile God-worshipper. For Cornelius to become a follower of Christ, it would mean converting to Judaism. Circumcision. And, in his case, a likely loss of position and social status. 

As our story opens, Cornelius has a vision. At the height of day, an angel appears to him and directs his attention to Peter, who is no short distance way, but is staying in Joppa, an area that is primarily Jewish. The angel instructs him to send for Peter, even adding directions to the house where Peter is staying. Cornelius, this field officer who is used to giving commands, follows the angel’s commands, sending his servants along with one of his trusted soldiers to go and get Peter. 

Scene 2. At noon on the following day, as their journey brought them close to the city, Peter went up on the roof to pray. He became hungry and wanted to eat. While others were preparing the meal, he had a visionary experience. He saw heaven opened up and something like a large linen sheet being lowered to the earth by its four corners. Inside the sheet were all kinds of four-legged animals, reptiles, and wild birds. A voice told him, “Get up, Peter! Kill and eat!”

Peter exclaimed, “Absolutely not, Lord! I have never eaten anything impure or unclean.”

The voice spoke a second time, “Never consider unclean what God has made pure.” This happened three times, then the object was suddenly pulled back into heaven. Acts 10:9-16 (CEB)

The delegation of three set out for Joppa. It’s a distance of about 4 miles. As they arrive, Peter is at prayer. Perhaps he’d been fasting, because during prayer, he becomes hungry. While he waits for food to be prepared, he has a vision. An odd vision. It it, he sees an object descending from an open heaven. Now, in scripture, heavens open for important revelations. Do you remember Jesus’ baptism, when the heavens opened, and the Holy Spirit came upon him in the form of a dove? This object in Peter’s vision, which appears to be a linen sheet, has on it various animals of the earth. Then, there is a voice from heaven, telling Peter to “Kill and eat.” 

But, Peter is a good Jew. He follows all of the required food laws. So, Peter objects. “I have never eaten anything impure or unclean,” he says. Then, the voice speaks a second time. “Never consider unclean what God has made pure.” This same dialogue happens three more times in the vision. And then, suddenly, the linen sheet is pulled back into heaven.

Scene 3.  Peter was bewildered about the meaning of the vision. Just then, the messengers sent by Cornelius discovered the whereabouts of Simon’s house and arrived at the gate. Calling out, they inquired whether the Simon known as Peter was a guest there.

While Peter was brooding over the vision, the Spirit interrupted him, “Look! Three people are looking for you. Go downstairs. Don’t ask questions; just go with them because I have sent them.”

So Peter went downstairs and told them, “I’m the one you are looking for. Why have you come?”

They replied, “We’ve come on behalf of Cornelius, a centurion and righteous man, a God-worshipper who is well-respected by all Jewish people. A holy angel directed him to summon you to his house and to hear what you have to say.” Peter invited them into the house as his guests. Acts 10:17-23a (CEB) 

As Peter is upstairs puzzling over this fascinating vision, there is a knock at the door. The Spirit tells Peter to go downstairs and meet this delegation. And to not ask any questions. So Peter does. He meets them and hears their report of a second vision - that given to Cornelius. Then, he offers them lodging. Because hospitality is not simply about being polite. To show true hospitality is to offer a social bond. In the case of Peter and these Gentiles, inviting them into the place where he is staying as his guests, is a big deal. It is a big, anti-cultural deal. And it foreshadows our next scene. 

Scene 4. The next day he got up and went with them, together with some of the believers from Joppa. They arrived in Caesarea the following day. Anticipating their arrival, Cornelius had gathered his relatives and close friends. As Peter entered the house, Cornelius met him and fell at his feet in order to honor him. But Peter lifted him up, saying, “Get up! Like you, I’m just a human.” As they continued to talk, Peter went inside and found a large gathering of people. He said to them, “You all realize that it is forbidden for a Jew to associate or visit with outsiders. However, God has shown me that I should never call a person impure or unclean. For this reason, when you sent for me, I came without objection. I want to know, then, why you sent for me.”

Cornelius answered, “Four days ago at this same time, three o’clock in the afternoon, I was praying at home. Suddenly a man in radiant clothing stood before me. He said, ‘Cornelius, God has heard your prayers, and your compassionate acts are like a memorial offering to him. Therefore, send someone to Joppa and summon Simon, who is known as Peter. He is a guest in the home of Simon the tanner, located near the seacoast.’ I sent for you right away, and you were kind enough to come. Now, here we are, gathered in the presence of God to listen to everything the Lord has directed you to say.” Acts 10:23b-29 (CEB)

So, the next day, Peter and the delegation get up to go to Cornelius. Notice that Peter does not go by himself, but he takes with him some of the believers from Joppa. This is not simply a personal mission, but a mission of the church. Cornelius, in Caesarea, has timed their arrival. To prepare, he has gathered together his entire household, as well as, some close friends. Then, Peter and the delegation arrive. And, as Peter, the Jew, crosses over the threshold into this Gentile’s house - something that would be completely unacceptable in Jewish custom. An act that would make Peter unclean and, afterward, would require that he go through cleanliness rituals. As Peter enters his home, Cornelius - this important military official - falls at Peter’s feet and worships him.

But, this isn’t about Peter. This is about the mission on which he’s been sent. Jesus’ mission. The church’s mission. Peter tells Cornelius to get up. He reminds Cornelius that he is human, just as Peter is human. Then, Peter asks Cornelius why he there

Scene 5. Peter said, “I really am learning that God doesn’t show partiality to one group of people over another. Rather, in every nation, whoever worships him and does what is right is acceptable to him. This is the message of peace he sent to the Israelites by proclaiming the good news through Jesus Christ: He is Lord of all! You know what happened throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism John preached. You know about Jesus of Nazareth, whom God anointed with the Holy Spirit and endowed with power. Jesus traveled around doing good and healing everyone oppressed by the devil because God was with him. We are witnesses of everything he did, both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They killed him by hanging him on a tree, but God raised him up on the third day and allowed him to be seen, not by everyone but by us. We are witnesses whom God chose beforehand, who ate and drank with him after God raised him from the dead. He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one whom God appointed as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell on everyone who heard the word. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles. They heard them speaking in other languages and praising God. Peter asked, “These people have received the Holy Spirit just as we have. Surely no one can stop them from being baptized with water, can they?” He directed that they be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they invited Peter to stay for several days. Acts 10:30-48 (CEB)

Invited by Peter, Cornelius shares his vision. We might expect that, in turn, Peter would share his. But, he doesn’t. Instead, Peter shares Jesus. He shares the good news in words, using a cultural model of Jesus that helps Cornelius understand.  Peter adapts his Christian message to the circumstance. Peter meets Cornelius where he is.

And, then, even before Peter has finished his brief sermon, the Holy Spirit swoops in. And falls on everyone - Jew and Gentile alike. The Jews that Peter has brought with him are astonished at this. Peter now fully gets it. He understands the vision. And, for him, there is only one conclusion: these people are to be baptized. Our scene, and our story, ends with an invitation for Peter to stay. And, in accepting this invitation, Peter is accepting a social bond. Affirming that Cornelius and his entire household are full members of the body of Christ. 


I’ve been thinking alot over the past several weeks about the story of this church. How the founders of this congregation sought to form a church here. In Oldham County. An area that, by then, had doubled in size since the mid-1970’s thanks, in part, to the construction of Interstate 71. But, also - let's be honest - thanks in part to white flight out of Louisville in response to school desegregation. 

How, in a time and place,where cultural norms might have frowned upon an openness to anyone of any race, sexual orientation, or any other difference that might put someone at the fringes of our world, this church was boldly formed as a Reconciling in Christ congregation, breaking boundaries that separate people. Celebrating differences. And proclaiming that unity here in this place is found in Christ.

Or how, this congregation, once again, broke boundaries in welcoming our elders to gather, to share their experiences and their wisdom - wisdom that comes from many years of living. Affirming their value in a world that values youth over age.

Or how, again, this congregation broke boundaries in this place - the wealthiest county in Kentucky, where one would not expect people to be hungry. But a place with a hidden population of people who are food insecure. And how this community would lean into the future by opening a food pantry - something inconvenient and time consuming. Yet, something that has become a beacon in this community, bringing people on opposite sides of the economic ladder together. A place where dignity and God’s love flourishes. 

Or how, last year in a time when anti-immigrant and anti-refugee rhetoric was at some of the highest levels we have seen in decades, this community publicly responded by co-sponsoring the Girmay family through Kentucky Refugee Ministries, along with Third Lutheran. This family who, after nearly 10 years in camp, is successfully building a new life for themselves and whose presence blesses us here today.

What amazing boundaries this congregation has crossed in its 26 years! What more there is to do! We, like Peter and the early church, are sent out into the world. To proclaim the Good News in our words. To share our story - the story of Grace & Glory - and how our story connects with God’s story and with the mission of Jesus Christ. And with the Holy Spirit, already at work, ahead of us, awakening curiosity, preparing hearts and minds, and sending other Corneliuses to us or we to them, giving us the words to help them connect their story with God’s story. And, in the process, like Peter, experiencing our own conversion.

This is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Crossing boundaries. Open to all people. May we continue to follow the work of the Spirit here in this place. Amen. Alleluia!

Preached May 5, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Third Sunday of Easter
Readings: Acts 10, Matthew 9:36-37

God's Power: Power in Brokenness

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

“For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.  Matthew 16:24 - 17:8 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.

Have you ever had a mountaintop experience? The first one I fully remember happened the summer of between seventh and eighth grade.

Summer for us was usually a time that was this mix of laziness and hard work. My brother and sister and I were on summer break from school. My dad and my brother were busy out in our fields farming or doing other chores. My mom worked part-time, from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. at the post office each day. So, it was up to my sister and I to handle chores around our house - stuff like cleaning the house, doing laundry, washing dishes, and gardening. My sister and I would sleep in late every morning and mess around doing stuff that we wanted to do. Then, about 1 o’clock, we’d jump up and jam to get everything done on the list that my mom had left for us to do. 

But, that summer was different. None of us had ever experienced anything like summer camp. I think, honestly, that my parents weren’t able to afford it. Yet, that summer, they offered the chance for us to go to Lutheran Bible camp. For some reason, which I don’t remember, neither my sister nor brother wanted to go. I was, however, interested. So, along with another friend from my confirmation class, we went to camp. 


Lutheran camp was held at a Lutheran academy in a neighboring town about 45-50 miles away from our farm. This was the first time I had ever been away from home on my own for such a long period of time. 

It. Was. Amazing! And although I can’t even really explain in words what was so amazing about it...It. Was. Amazing! Maybe it was meeting so many other teenagers from different places. So many other Lutheran teenagers. Maybe it was that I developed a huge crush on this really cute guy there. Or maybe it was that sense of community that we experienced together - having fun, talking about our faith - that community that happens that is so hard to put into words. It’s more like a feeling. The same feeling that happens here in worship - not always - but that, when it does, you know something is happening that is just amazing. And, it stays with you.

A mountaintop experience. This is what’s happening in our story today. With Peter and James and John, on the mountaintop with Jesus.

But, before we get to the story, we need to get caught up on what has happened since last week’s miracle stories - the feeding of the 5,000 plus and Jesus and Peter walking on water.

If you remember the end of last week’s story, Jesus and the disciples had crossed over the Sea of Galilee to its western shore. They are still in the northern and more rural areas of Palestine. Jesus is still teaching and performing miracles. He has healed many people. He has fed another large crowd of 4,000 plus with a small amount of food. He is becoming more known as he continues his ministry along the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. He has, also, for the first time been confronted by the religious authorities - the Pharisees and Sadducees. 

Jesus continues traveling southward, moving ever closer to Jerusalem. At one point, he asks the disciples what people are saying about him. In our terms, he was wondering what the buzz was about him. Some of the disciples say that people think he is John the Baptist. Others say Elijah. And yet others say that the crowds think he is Jeremiah, or another one of the prophets.

Then, Jesus turns to the disciples. And says to them, “Who do YOU say that I am?” It is at this moment that we hear this declaration of faith for the very first time from any of the disciples. Peter says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

The disciples are getting it. No longer is their faith immature. It is maturing into a deep understanding of who this Jesus is. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” So, when Jesus hears their mature response, he knows it is now time to prepare them for the coming events in Jerusalem. Yet, Peter does not want to hear Jesus’ prediction. Bold Peter - the first to climb out of the boat and walk on water - does not want hear that Jesus will suffer and die. And even be raised on the third day. Peter doesn’t want to hear this because Peter is focused on himself. And on how all of this will affect him.

We’re a lot like Peter. Like him, we’ve been well-trained by the world to be focused on ourselves. On our needs. On what we can get out of something or from someone. Thomas Keating in his book, Intimacy With God, writes, ”We are living in a world that rejects love and that affirms selfishness as the ultimate value. The pressure from society is constantly insinuating itself through our upbringing, education, and culture.” He goes on, “We bring [that] false self with us into the spiritual journey and into our relationship with God. Perhaps for many years our relationship with God might be termed co-dependent, because we deal with God in the magical way that is characteristic of children. An important fruit of our contemplative prayer is to be purified of our childish ideas about God. As our idea of God expands, there is no word, no way, no gesture, that can articulate it anymore. Hence we fall into silence, the place we should have been in the first place...As Saint John of the Cross writes; ‘It was said once, and said in absolute silence. And it is only in silence that we hear it.'"

When we have a mature faith, we have moved away from the place where it is all about us. And about our needs. That’s the point of Jesus’ response to Peter in the very next verses. “All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their lives will lose them. But all who lose their lives because of me will find them.”

Our cross - the cross that Jesus makes reference to in these verses - is not a cross of our own sufferings, or of the challenges or difficulties in our lives. Those are ours because of our own brokenness or because of the brokenness of our world. It is when we, in that brokenness are turned back to God. When we recognize our own powerlessness and inability to fix things. It is then, that we turn back to God. And we are witness to the self-sacrificial love of Christ on the cross, who loves us. Who forgives us. And who brings us to that place of absolute silence. Where we can finally hear God speaking to us. Where we see God’s glory. Where we have our own mountaintop experience.

It’s like this. How many of you know what this is? (A glow stick.) Is this glowing right now? (Nope.) Why not? (Because it hasn’t been bent.) Right.

Now, everyone gets a glow stick. But don’t break it until everyone has one. Now, bend your glow stick into the shape of a "J," for Jesus. Do you notice that the stick begins to glow? Why? (Glow sticks first have to be broken in order for us to see them glow.) The glow material is always in the stick. But we can’t see it until the stick has been broken. 

We’re a lot like these glow sticks. Sometimes it feels like we have to be broken before we see God’s glory. And before the light of Jesus shines in us. We can have really difficult times. But, the power of Jesus is always inside us, waiting to help us glow. Waiting for us to take up our own cross. Just like the cross of Jesus. Which wasn’t about him. But about us. And about serving us. And all humankind.


We, as Lutherans, have a gift to share with the world. We believe that it is in our brokenness where we experience the glory of God. Where we are then freed by God from our sin and our shame and that very brokenness through the cross of Jesus. We believe that God has freed us from this so that we then take up our own cross - a cross that is like the cross of Jesus. A cross that involves losing our own lives. A cross that is sacrificial. A cross that calls us to come down off the mountaintop. To give of ourselves to serve others. To share this amazing gift of grace through our words and our actions.

And, trusting, that the power of Jesus is always with us and inside us. A power that is found in our brokenness and in turning back to God. A power that is waiting to glow for the rest of the world. Amen.

Preached March 3, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Transfiguration of our Lord.
Readings: Matthew 16:24 - 17:8; Psalm 41:7-10.