Hidden Hands, Daring Choices: A Vision of Shalom in the Already and Not-Yet

This morning, the smoke from yesterday’s fireworks is clearing, and our neighborhoods are settling down after celebrating a massive milestone: the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. As a nation, we love a milestone. As a Lutheran pastor, I usually love a milestone too, though I’ve learned that my spiritual gifts do not include lighting a charcoal grill. There is a specific kind of public humiliation in standing before a group of hungry people while your lighter fluid fails for the third time and the potato salad begins to reach a questionable temperature. But even as we navigate our neighborhood barbecues, we gather here for a different kind of work. Today, on this July 5th, we are called to hold two heavy things together: gratitude and humility. We are grateful for a vision of equality named so boldly in 1776, yet we are humble enough to admit we are still a long way from the finish line.

In his letter to our church this week, Presiding Bishop Yehiel Curry describes this as the "Already and Not-Yet." This framework changes how we see our country. We love the promise of the "Already"—the revolutionary idea that all are created equal—while we simultaneously lament the "Not-Yet" of our historical failures. To be a person of faith in a democracy is to live in this tension. It’s easier to just eat the potato salad and ignore the struggle, but the Gospel calls us to a deeper honesty. We are a people living under the weight of an empire while holding onto a promise. It is a story as old as the Bible itself, and it brings us back to the heart of the Persian Empire.

Last week, we started the book of Esther, noting that it is the only book in the Bible where God is never mentioned. Not even once. For those of us living in a secular world where it often feels like God is keeping a low profile, this "hiddenness" is a gift. It tells us that God’s providence often moves in the shadows, working through what look like coincidences. In Esther 4, the Jewish people faced a state-sanctioned crisis. A high-ranking official named Haman had secured a legal decree to annihilate them. It was a death sentence written into the law of the land.

When the decree went out, Esther’s cousin Mordecai sat in sackcloth, while Esther sat in the palace, shielded but terrified. Mordecai sent her a message: "Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for such a time as this." Esther had to make a choice. She could cling to her own safety, or she could risk her life. She chose the risk. This teaches us that human agency is often the "wing" of God’s protection. We know this at Vista Lutheran. We saw it when this congregation served as an oasis of dignity for our Spanish-speaking neighbors during the recent ICE presence in Minneapolis. You didn't wait for a lightning bolt from heaven; you became the "wing" ourselves.

Now, let us hear how that daring risk turned the tide of history.

I invite you to hear the end of Esther’s story—a narrative where a decree of death is undone by a decree of life.

So the king and Haman went in to feast with Queen Esther. On the second day, as they were drinking wine, the king again said to Esther, “What is your petition, Queen Esther? It shall be granted you. And what is your request? Even to half of my kingdom, it shall be fulfilled.” Then Queen Esther answered, “If I have won your favor, O king, and if it pleases the king, let my life be given me—that is my petition—and the lives of my people—that is my request. For we have been sold, I and my people, to be destroyed, to be killed, and to be annihilated..."

Then King Ahasuerus said to Queen Esther, “Who is he, and where is he, who has presumed to do this?” Esther said, “A foe and an enemy, this wicked Haman!” Then Haman was terrified before the king and the queen... Then Harbona, one of the eunuchs in attendance on the king, said, “Look, the very pole that Haman has prepared for Mordecai... stands at Haman's house, fifty cubits high.” And the king said, “Hang him on that.” So they hung Haman on the pole that he had prepared for Mordecai.

Mordecai recorded these things and sent letters to all the Jews... enjoining them that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar and also the fifteenth day... as the days on which the Jews gained relief from their enemies and as the month that had been turned for them from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday... Queen Esther... gave full written authority confirming this second letter about Purim... The command of Esther fixed these practices of Purim, and it was recorded in writing. –Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; Esther 9:20-22, 29-32 (NRSVue)

This story moves through the hyperbole of empire—from a ludicrously tall, seventy-five-foot stake intended for execution to a massive celebration of survival—marking a decisive, righteous reversal where mourning was legally transformed into a holiday. This Great Reversal in Persia mirrors the vision of equality cast 250 years ago in America; both represent a moment where the law shifted from a tool of oppression to a promise of defense and joy. 

In our tradition, we call this vision Shalom. Shalom is more than just a lack of conflict or a quiet afternoon. It is a "Kingdom Vision" where every neighbor has an equal and celebrated seat at the table. It is the wholeness God intends for all of us.

Bishop Curry reminds us that as Lutherans, our faith gives us a specific role in a democracy. As Lutheran Christians, we believe that God calls us first to remember our connection to each other through baptism, as Scripture teaches us that we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. Second, we are called to name sin for what it really is and to repent of it, as the Augsburg Confession and the catechisms remind us. And finally, we are called to serve the common good in society as imperfect reflections of God’s ultimate  - and perfect - intention. 

Naming sin is not about being "political"; it is a theological necessity if we want to move toward Shalom. We cannot celebrate the "Already" of our freedom without repenting for the "Not-Yet" of our failures. We must name the displacement of Indigenous peoples from this very land. We must remember the Japanese American families - and German American families - interned in camps during World War II. We must acknowledge that even now, the lives of our queer and transgender neighbors are deeply impacted by orders that deny their dignity. We remember the photo of Elizabeth Eckford, one of the Little Rock Nine - a teenager facing a wall of hate just to go to school - and we admit that our stated values have often been left behind.  

So, what does it mean to celebrate a promise that is real but not yet finished?

It means we live with a hope that does not ignore the truth. We see this in our own identity here at Vista. We are a merged church, the union of Prince of Peace and Wooddale. That merger was not a sign of scarcity; it was a sacred period of gestation. We allowed our individual pasts to become the "Already," so that a new "Not-Yet" could be born. We are a living example of many different streams flowing into one river, becoming one body for the sake of the world.

Our church is imperfect. Our nation is imperfect. But we are held by a perfect grace. The Jews in Esther’s time faced the very real threat of total annihilation, yet they found themselves preserved by the hidden hand of God. And we, too, in our own context and in this moment, are a people held by that same perfect grace.

Today marks the final Sunday of our series, Hidden Hands, Daring Choices. Over these last weeks across Ruth and Esther, we have watched how God moves in the quiet corners of history, and how ordinary people are called to step out in faith. Next Sunday, we will pivot to Paul’s letters to Timothy as we begin a new series called The Guarded House. But before we turn that page, let us carry the lessons of Esther and Ruth into the week ahead.

We are not a people who only look backward to 1776 or to ancient history. We look to the future God is making possible right now. We are rooted in the resurrection of Christ, which means we already have the promise, even while we work for its completion.

We are never alone in this work. We have the presence of God and the accompaniment of the Holy Spirit. As you head out into the week ahead, I leave you with this call: be grateful for the vision of freedom, be humble about our failures, and be bold in serving our neighbors. 

We are people of the resurrection. God's future is making all things new, right here, and right now. And you and I - we - have been called just for such a time as this.

Amen.

Preached Sunday, July 5, 2026, at Vista Lutheran Church, St. Louis Park, MN.

Learning to Follow: The Great Reversal

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:1-20 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from the Holy Trinity: God, the Creator; God, the Redeemer; and God, the Sustainer. Amen.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been in the first few chapters of Matthew, focusing on how Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s promise. At the very end of last week’s reading, if you heard it, we listened to Jesus speak his first words of public ministry. They are the same words we heard John the Baptist speak. “Repent! [Or change your hearts and minds!] For the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

Today’s lesson begins with Jesus going up to a mountain top. Sitting down. To teach. A common way of teaching in his time. In Matthew, this is the beginning of three full chapters of teaching by Jesus. It’s what we call the Sermon on the Mount. 

Now, most scholars agree that Jesus was probably not on a mountain when he spoke these words. Again, as we’ve seen before, the author is deliberately making a connection for the Matthew audience. Drawing a line for them between Jesus and Israel and, especially, helping them see that Jesus is the fulfillment of Israel. So, just as Moses shared the law with Israel from the mountain - from Mount Sinai - so, too, the writer of Matthew places Jesus on a mountain to, share the law with his followers. Just like Moses.

Now, we know who the followers of Moses were, right? Israel. But, who were the followers of Jesus? If we back up a few more in chapter 4, we see who they are beginning with verse 23. “Jesus traveled throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues. He announced the good news of the kingdom and healed every disease and sickness among the people. News about him spread throughout Syria. People brought to him all those who had various kinds of diseases, those in pain, those possessed by demons, those with epilepsy, and those who were paralyzed, and he healed them. Large crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from the areas beyond the Jordan River.”

So, the first thing we note from this text is place. That Jesus was in Galilee. He was not in Judea, which was where Jerusalem was. Instead he was in an area that was far north. An area that had historically been the most devastated because it was near the northern border. In an area that had a long history with empire and oppression. An area that had first fallen to the Babylonians, then to the Assyrians and, then, by Jesus’ time, to the Romans. It was an area on the margins. 

The second thing we note is the activity of Jesus. He announces the good news of the kingdom of heaven. But, this is not the good news of a kingdom that is far into the future or in an afterlife, but it is the good news of a kingdom that is being experienced now. That is being lived out now. The good news pronounced by Jesus is connected with activity in the here and now. With the healing of every disease and sickness among the people.

The last thing we note in this text is about the crowd that was following him. This was not a crowd that was made up of the elite: the wealthy, the powerful, the successful. But it was a crowd of people who were diseased, in pain, with mental health issues and epilepsy, and with paralysis and the friends and families who were supporting them. Who were bringing them to be healed by Jesus. It was a crowd of people on the margins. 

So, Jesus’ ministry in Matthew is one of good news bringing healing in the present time to a marginal people in a marginal place. 

Then, we turn to chapter 5 and our reading today. Which begins with the Beatitudes. It is in these statements, each beginning with the words “Blessed are” that we begin to understand what the priorities are for Jesus in the kingdom of God.

To help us better understand this, I have a little activity that I need 3 volunteers for. I need each of you to go to the back of the sanctuary by the front doors. Then, when I say “go,” I want you to run forward as fast as you can to give me a “high five.” Ready? On your mark. Get set. Go.

The person who was in last place is our winner today. Is that a surprise for you? How is this different from what you expected? 

Thanks to all of you for your participation. 

Do you see what just happened? The world has trained us to believe that only the fastest, the smartest, and the best will be the winners. But, this is not so in God’s kingdom. So often we look at this list - at the Beatitudes - as a “to do” list for us. If we will be poor in spirit, we will have the kingdom. If we mourn, we will be comforted. If we are meek, we will inherit the earth. And on and on. 

But, that’s not what Jesus intends. Instead, what Jesus intends is the exact opposite. It’s what we call the great reversal. The radical nature of the gospel. The scandal of the good news. Jesus teaches that those who are poor in spirit, that those who mourn or are meek, that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, that those who are merciful or pure in heart, or who are peacemakers, or who are persecuted and reviled - that all of these people are the priority in God’s kingdom. Jesus isn’t calling us to go and get persecuted, but to honor those who are. As we do this. As we honor and lift up these qualities, we will be transformed. We will realign our own priorities with those of God. We will follow Jesus’ command to repent. To change our hearts. To be transformed.

But, that’s not all. Because this is not the end of our lesson today. Matthew goes on to talk about two things: salt and light.

What does salt do? Yes, it gives flavor to food. It’s a preservative. Before the days of refrigeration, it was the only real way to preserve food. In Jesus’ time, though, salt had a different function. Palestinians in the first century placed flat plates of salt on the bottom of their earthen ovens to activate the fire. Salt was a catalyst that caused the fuel to burn. So, in other words, salt provided the spark for the fire. 

Then, what about light? What does light do? It helps lead us. It guides us in the darkness. Yes, these things. And, have you been in a dark movie theatre and your phone screen turns on? It’s is really hard to hide light. 

So, what is Jesus telling us today in this two-part text? He is telling us that the priority of God's kingdom begins on the margins. That, it consists of people, broken like us, who have been healed and made God’s disciples by grace. But that the discipleship doesn’t end there. It doesn’t end with healing and with salvation, with simply sitting and waiting for that eternal, heavenly kingdom. It exists in the here and now, just as Jesus taught. With us, as his followers, being salt in the the world. Being the spark that gets the fire burning. And being light - not light that is hidden - but light that shines brightly and can be seen for miles.

You see, discipleship is intended to turn our lives upside down, just as God’s kingdom is one of great reversals. Discipleship is intended to change us completely in how we plan our days - both in what we do and in how we do it. This is what it means to be a follower of Jesus in the here and now. It is to be a leader. To be the salt and the light. To guide the world to a deeper understanding of God's kingdom - a kingdom of great reversals. A kingdom of the here and now. A kingdom for all eternity.

May God guide us in our transformation - in our great reversal - that we might be more fully the salt and light for the kingdom of God. Amen.

Preached January 27, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Epiphany 3
Readings: Matthew 5:1-20, Psalm 1:1-3