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Jeremiah 28:5-9

Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18

Romans 6:12-23

Matthew 10:40-42


Sermon by Pastor Joel


In 1990, a study looked at what happened when children and adults were taught to consider alternative explanations for rude behaviour – to work against what psychologists call Hostile Attribution Bias. What happened? To no surprise, all ages reported better friendships and less aggression during conflicts. 

In 2010, researchers tried a different version of the study, this time calling it “compassionate reappraisal.” They asked people to reinterpret a story about how someone had hurt them – but imagining the offender’s pain or trauma. What did the results find? People felt less angry, they obsessed less often about the offense, and they even saw health benefits, when their blood pressure fell.

In 2013, researchers published a study looking at what happened when couples were taught to interpret their partner’s rude or hurtful behaviour as the result of stress, weariness, and outside experience – and not ill will towards them. They called it “assuming the best.” What happened? To no one’s surprise, conflict was reduced, relationship satisfaction increased – and what’s more, this training lasted the full year that the couples were studied. 

Just this past week, a reel popped up in my Facebook feed – the face of a young man with a thoughtful expression, speaking as if he had just had an epiphany: “Imagine,” he said, “if we all went through the world assuming that anyone who wronged us was having a bad day or dealing with their own  problems, that they didn’t mean it personally.” 

Just imagine.

Compassionate reappraisal. Anti-hostile Attribution Bias. Assuming the Best. What are all these studies about? 

Each one of them is really talking about Grace. 

Grace is one of the richest, most layered words in Christian theology — and especially in the Lutheran tradition. It’s meaning for us, as Lutherans, is right there in our second lesson: “For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under the law but under grace.”

We recite that tenet of the Lutheran understanding of our relationship to God so easily: Justified by grace through faith. 

But just like those researchers in all those studies – then and since – we need to know what we really mean – for ourselves and the world - when we use the word Grace. Otherwise, it’s just a jingle we’ve memorized by rote that has no guiding purpose in our lives.

Grace has been the subject of much contemplation and scholarship, not least because of the question posed in our second lesson. If we are to live by grace and not law, does that mean we may sin recklessly with no consequence? This is what theologians have long debated – if the law is irrelevant in our lives, if we don’t have to strive to receive grace, does it have any value at all? 

First, those who argue for that have cheapened grace, in my opinion, making the mistake of connecting grace to one subject matter – the forgiveness of sin. Grace is not linked to sin, like one side of a set of handcuffs.  Grace appears in our lives in many ways, with many definitions.

Grace is one of those beautiful concepts that can encapsulate so many qualities and definitions, containing many truths together under one underlying value. Grace is the presence of God. Grace is the sense that we are enough. Grace is community – the gifts we receive from one another. Grace is courage – the strength we find within ourselves to act when we are afraid. When you experience Grace in those moments, even as flawed and hurting human beings, does it feel cheap to you? Or does it feel, in fact, like a powerful gift, freely given? 

Secondly, those who argue that by not sticking to the law we cheapen grace, have made grace the very transaction that Jesus preaches against for his entire ministry. Life is not a zero-sum game: You did this for me; I do this for you. I do this for God; God does this for me. Life is about giving when we have no chance of receiving, about sharing when we feel poor, about making time when we have little to spare, about helping those who may never return the favour. 

Law unhindered by grace is entirely transactional: “do this” equals “getting this.” And yet we know that life doesn’t work this way, Life is never a simple step of always following the rules. At one time in our lives, every single one of us has encountered a sensible, logical rule that did not fit the scenario we were presented with, that seemed insufficient to what was required morally in the moment. Grace allows us that moral autonomy; to choose to follow the gospel even when it means breaking the rules. 

Finally, grace gives us the power to see ourselves and one another as individuals, the most gospel-fed view of people we can practice. The law is a useful framework, a big picture rulebook: don’t butt into line, don’t cut someone off at the lights. But grace is the way that we interpret the law.

When we respond with grace, when someone cuts us off at traffic lights, or butts into the line in the grocery store, we are saying that person might be rushing to the hospital to see a sick loved one, that person might be late to pick up their child at daycare after a long work shift. And in that moment that driver is not just a driver, the line-butter is not just a line-butter, they are a person. They have a unique life, full of right and wrong choices and good and bad moments. They are human. They are just like us. This is the gift of grace that we are given: the power to truly see one another and ourselves.  The ability to feel God’s presence working through us and in the world. 

Grace is not about receiving a “get-out-of-sin-free” card. The true power of Grace is not that it releases us from the consequences of wrongdoing, but that it steers us away from becoming embroiled in it.  And when this happens, polarization gets worse and sin wins. 

A life spent trying not to mess up is suffocating, and doomed to fail. But a life spent finding the grace to be courageous, the grace to be alert to God’s presence, the grace to see the humanness in the stranger, the grace to see the humanness in ourselves – now that is a meaningful life. A liberated life. A solution-focused life.

With grace, we have moved beyond our own wrongdoings – and beyond the wrongdoings of others - to focus on a life that turns polarization into cooperation and brings meaning and hope and healing. 

Grace is God’s unconditional, liberating, world‑healing love — given freely, experienced communally, and expressed through justice, compassion, and solidarity.

Because nobody ever made the world better simply by following the rules. But everyone who made the world better used grace to break them. 

Amen

Jeremiah 20:7-13

Psalm 69:7-18

Romans 6:1b-11

Matthew 10:24-39


Sermon by Bishop Halmarson


Grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus Christ!

Today we mark a trifecta of special occasions in our worship.

Father’s Day is a special day to honor and appreciate fathers and father figures. It’s a time to express gratitude for the men who offer love, guidance, and care for children. Father figures can include biological fathers, stepfathers, grandfathers, fathers-in-law, guardians (such as foster parents), male relatives, and family friends who play an important role in a child’s life.

National Indigenous Peoples Day takes place today on the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. For generations, many First Nations, Inuit and Métis communities have celebrated their cultures, languages, and traditions at this time of year. The summer solstice holds deep spiritual and cultural significance for many Indigenous Peoples, marking a time of renewal, connection, and celebration. Since 1971 the ELCIC’s full communion partner, the Anglican Church in Canada has set June 21 as a National Indigenous Day of Prayer, a day to honor the cultures and contributions of First Nations, Inuit, and Métis peoples while also serving as a time to pray for healing, reconciliation, and right relationships. Today’s Prayer of the Day comes from Anglican church resources developed to mark this National Indigenous Day of Prayer.

World Refugee Day, marked yesterday, is an opportunity for us to pause in our daily life and honour displaced people around the world. It’s a time to celebrate their strength, courage and resilience and also to build understanding and empathy for the challenges they face every day. The ELCIC has deep roots in migrant and refugee settlement beginning from the earliest migration of Scandinavian and German people to Canada, bringing their Lutheran faith and practice with them. Since the 1950’s Lutheran churches through Canadian Lutheran World Relief have engaged with global partners to assist people displaced by conflict and war to find a new home in Canada. Today the reasons for displacement are more diverse – conflict, persecution, climate degradation and violence are all reasons people flee their homes for a safer place to live – and today we pray for renewed efforts to end the reasons for displacement while we offer hope to those who seek a new home.

Our sermon today comes from the ELCIC Summer Sermon Series prepared by national and synod staff for congregational use. Today’s sermon was prepared by Rev. Paul Gehrs, Assistant to the National Bishop, and is based on the Gospel reading from Matthew. Here is Paul’s sermon, in his own words beginning with a Land Acknowledgement:

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"The ELCIC acknowledges that its buildings and ministries, from coast to coast to coast, are on traditional territories of Indigenous Peoples. I am speaking to you from the Winnipeg national office in Treaty One Territory and the Homeland of the Metis Nation. I am deeply grateful for the Indigenous elders, leaders and Peoples who are stewards of land, water and wisdom. The ongoing work of truth, healing, reconciliation and decolonization helps our society, our church, our communities and my own family to address all the challenges we face.

My name is Paul Gehrs. My pronouns are he/him. I serve as Assistant to the Bishop for Justice and Ecumenical and Interfaith relations with the ELCIC National Office.

Thank you for the invitation to offer this sermon today – along with the opportunity to honour June 21 as National Indigenous Peoples Day and to honour June 20 as World Refugee Day. These observances are invitations to pray, listen, hear stories, learn history, honour people and celebrate identities. They are calls to be anti-racist. They are reminders to act for justice every day.

When I was in junior high school on a church youth retreat, I volunteered to help create a skit about Daniel in the lion’s den. In the rehearsal, starring as Daniel and using my best and limited improv skills, I knelt down and prayed: “Dear God, I am very scared right now – surrounded by lions and all. But I know that you can help me and protect me.”

And the youth leader serving as director said, “NO. Daniel was never scared because he believed in God.”

It was an unnecessary stifling of imagination and a dubious theological conclusion.

In this mild confrontation, I experienced my usual pattern… withdrawal, guilt (it must be my fault there is a conflict), righteous indignation (I’m right and everyone else is wrong) and stewing about what I should try to say. For me, some of the big emotions, such as fear and anger, can be difficult.

What I did not manage to say to the director that day is that seeing biblical characters as human is an important step in theology. Imagining that Daniel is scared and faithful is a legitimate encounter with scripture. In my experience, the path to courage is most often through my fear and beyond my worries – rarely does God take away all the tough emotions before the journey starts. Imagination is a gift; and leadership is not at its best when it stifles imagination or shuts down voices.

Today, we hear Jesus say, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword…” Uh-oh, sounds like conflict. I sense the same feelings churning inside: withdrawal, guilt, self-righteous anger and stewing.

Why is the Prince of Peace talking about swords? Here is how I make sense of it.

In grace and love, God bestows dignity on each person, values every part of creation, and honours each being. In baptism, we are called to be disciples of Jesus. This calling includes supporting each one in becoming the person God calls them to be. This calling includes working for justice, healing, liberation and peace.

I want to be a good disciple, but it is not always easy.

Action for grace and dignity can get you in trouble. As God moves the world toward justice, we don’t all make the transformation at the same time. Those who benefit from oppression may be upset about the move to freedom. Doing the right thing may divide communities, families and households. You may even find yourself at odds with the very people who nurtured you, formed you and taught you.

This is one reason that Jesus says, “I have come to bring a sword.”

On May 21, the Governing Board of the Canadian Council of Churches visited the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation where the staff led us through a reflection exercise using the images of “Rose, Bud, Thorn.” Gathered for conversation in small groups, the idea is this:

Roses are the things where progress has been made on the work of reconciliation. Places where actions have born fruit and generated beauty.

Buds are opportunities. Situations where things have not yet bloomed but they are ready and inviting further action.

Thorns are things that block progress. We all know they exist. The thorny blocks happen inside me and in small communities and at the systemic level. Sometimes we are slow to name those thorns and speaking the truth can help discern other buds.

By way of example:

With regard to reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples, I could say that:

A couple of Roses are faith communities acknowledging Indigenous territory, and, school curriculums improving how Canadian history is taught.

Some Buds are continuing to learn from Indigenous elders how to respect and care for land and water, and, building on existing relationships in my life.

Thorns are laws, policies and projects that fail to respect the Indigenous Right to Free, Prior and Informed consent.

With regard to refugee rights:

Roses are Canadian Lutheran World Relief’s (CLWR’s) long history of care for refugees internationally and the work of congregations to sponsor refugees who come to Canada.

A Bud is that CLWR has recently hired Jennifer Ardon to serve in the new role of Public Witness & Mobilization Lead - Church Relations. Jennifer will be working with Lutherans to provide opportunities for learning and advocacy. A World Refugee Day toolkit has been posted on the CLWR website, and these engagement possibilities will be relevant long after this weekend.

A Thorn is how some public leaders are trying to blame refugees and immigrants for some of Canada’s social problems such has housing and healthcare. This is inaccurate analysis and is a cloaked way of endorsing racism. We need leaders with imagination to address the issues of refugee rights and housing and healthcare.

One additional learning from my recent visit to the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation is that there is no finish line for the work of reconciliation. The work of truth, liberation, healing and reconciliation is an ongoing process of building relationships and restoring relationships.

Similarly, I could say that there is no finish line on the journey of discipleship. It is ongoing work of forming and healing relationships. The way is long and the burdens of world are legion. Jesus reminds us that swords will be part of the journey because speaking truth and acting for justice generate conflict. And Jesus promises to be with us in that conflict. Jesus blesses us with companions on the journey, and each one can carry part of the burden.

In response to the resurrection, the first disciples were full of fear and locked themselves behind closed doors. Jesus got through those locked doors and joined them and sent them. The Holy Spirit got through those locked doors with wind and fire – sending the disciples into the streets – full of passion and communicating in diverse languages.

Today and every day, we know that the Holy Spirit is going to move the church forward.

You are a gift to the world and for the world. The community needs your voice. The church needs your imagination. Creation needs your gentleness and wisdom. Those who are hurting need your care. Those who hunger and thirst for justice need your courage.

The invitation to follow Jesus has big metaphors:

Carry a cross. Lose your life. Discover the swords.

When I feel scared, overwhelmed, worried or discouraged, I remember this:

The Holy Spirit finds us, carries us, moves us, strengthens us and transforms us.

Jesus is our teacher and model for living out God’s grace and unconditional love.

And, a disciple is not above the teacher…it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher…"

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Paul Gehrs leaves us with a call to action, a promise of support and the means to endure the challenges we will certainly face in our discipleship. May God give us all we need to help make the world a more just and equitable place, and may we know the immeasurable peace of living in the eternal love and grace of God.

Amen



Exodus 19:2-8a

Psalm 100

Romans 5:1-8

Matthew 9:35--10:23


Sermon by Pastor Joel


This morning, we hear two different messages about God’s call to serve others: one that speaks of happiness, the other of hardship. But they are not incompatible. Happiness can be found in the midst of hardship. Indeed, when the hardship that comes from following the gospel is meaningful, generous, and shared with our neighbor, it can be the truest path to happiness. 

The gospel this morning represents a hinge point, as our current Prime Minister likes to say, in the ministry of Jesus. Having demonstrated to the disciples what it means to follow the gospel – to teach and to heal and to embrace the stranger -- Jesus is now bestowing that same calling on the disciples themselves. And through them, on each one of us. 

Yet we find ourselves today on both sides – on both the crowd – harassed and helpless – and on the disciple, empowered as sheep to go bravely among the wolves. The people who heard the teachings of Jesus were facing financial strains, political domination, and corrupt leadership, more ready to fill their own pockets with public funds than to distribute them to those in need. 

The gospel describes the people as “sheep without a shepherd” – adrift in a difficult world, searching for leaders they can respect and who will do what is right, fight for justice, and make the world better, more equal, and kinder. 

We hear this stark warning from Jesus about the persecution that the disciples will face in this world, about families being set at odds against one another – and Jesus could be speaking to our own time. 

People today who speak out against tyranny are being persecuted – in person and on social media. Ideological divides in families are causing estrangement. Polarization is ending friendships. Civil dialogue across divides is declining – making people more and more hesitant to attempt that civil dialogue in the first place. 

And yet, Jesus reminds us that we must. We must go out into the world and greet those who disagree with us, break bread with them, discuss the world with them. 

And this mission we are on must not be pursued for our own personal gain. Indeed, this edict from Jesus to “Take no gold, no bag, no second tunic” suggests that the disciples are to rely on the hospitality of others. 

They cannot be seen collecting their own wealth – for that would make them no better than the corrupt leaders. That would make them wolves among the people. And secondly, when the strangers they meet offer that hospitality, they are no longer strangers. 

The disciples are given very clear directions. We are given very clear directions. We are to have conviction tempered with mercy. We are to endure hostility without becoming hostile. To speak our truth with humility and gentleness. To be courageous with our openness and our compassion. 

A tall challenge indeed. And yet, in our Psalm, we are reminded how to accomplish this, and most importantly, how to sustain it. 

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, |all you lands!” the psalmist writes.  “See the Lord with gladness; come into God’s presence with a song.” 

This might seem impossible – given the path that Jesus laid out for the disciples - one of suffering and persecution. And yet, what else did he describe? A life of value, an opportunity to build community, a chance to make a difference. 

For what most erodes our happiness is feeling lonely and helpless. These feelings fuel our anxiety. Paralyze our ability to act. Keep us home when we should be knocking on our neighbor’s door. 

Modern society and social media tell us over and over again that joy is found in what we own, in the titles we hold, in how far up we rise. But this message requires us, by definition, to step over our neighbors rather than to walk beside them. 

And yet, science has caught up with the gospel. What we do as individuals to foster the practice of happiness and insight – writing in a gratitude journal or praying to God reminds us of what we already have. Meditating or sitting under a beautiful tree feeds our souls. 

But the fuel for happiness is people and the meaningful actions we take on their behalf. What builds happiness is connection – to people, to the natural world. What sustains happiness is working to make a difference, even if it is one small moment at a time. 

We should not sit with the message from Jesus in the gospel, without hearing the encouragement of the psalmist. Let us not go forth dour and disheartened, ready to flinch and turn away. Rather, let us be joyful in our actions and choices. Let us choose optimism. 

For what lies within joy but hope. The hope that what we do matters. The hope that our family will one day come back together. The hope that friends will forgive. The hope that together, we will reach a hinge point, and the world will be changed. 

There is another message, hidden in our readings this morning.

In our gospel, Jesus advises the disciples to steer away from the “gentiles” and to avoid the “Samaritan towns”.  In modern times, this particular section of the gospel has been employed to demonize those who disagree, to suggest that only some merit the gospel. But is this what Jesus could  possibly have meant? The very same Jesus who honored the Good Samaritan so highly that the phrase Good Samaritan now stands for the gospel itself? 

Of course not. But Jesus was pragmatic, just as we must be. He was advising the disciples to begin where they will be most welcomed, where even people who doubt their message might be willing peacefully to listen. 

Begin in more comfortable spaces, he was saying, and build your strength and expertise. Gather a community around you for support. He was reminding the disciples that they do not have to spread kindness and hope and healing on their own. That we do not have to do this on our own.

Community lies at the heart of both our gospel and our Psalm this morning. Every door that was opened to the disciples on their dusty road – on our own dusty roads – makes our community larger, our social connection greater. 

And what better way to bring people together than with song, as the Psalmist writes. 

A soloist is beautiful and brave, singing alone. But a choir of people singing in harmony, raising their united voices to the sky? Now that is something that really shakes the rafters.

Amen

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