Sermon Audio – Cross of Grace Cross of Grace Lutheran Church

Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side. And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him.
A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.
He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’























































































































We all have a storm story. Here’s mine. Several years ago, Katelyn and I went camping in upstate New York. We were most excited about renting a boat and fishing on this small lake. And here’s us in our boat, just as we began fishing. Now it wasn’t big, just a simple row boat. Which means I rowed and Katelyn fished. And Katelyn is a really good fisherman but not so good at taking the fish off. So by the time I got us to a good spot, she would have already caught multiple fish, which I had to remove.
I rarely had a chance to toss out my own line before moving to another spot. Finally we got to a spot on the far side of the lake where we had our anchor down, bait on the hooks, lines out, and ready to reel 'em in. Then, the wind kicks up and dark clouds start moving in. We hear thunder and its pretty close. So we both agree we should make our way back across the lake to the docks. We reeled in our lines and I started rowing. I rowed for maybe 15 minutes, but I wasn’t getting very far.
The wind is really picking up now and those clouds were nearly on top of us. So I rowed harder and harder, but with each stroke forward, I felt like the wind picked up just a little bit faster, pushing us backward. At this point we are only half way across the lake and the heavens could rip open at any moment.
Both of us are scared, I’m tired from rowing as fast as I can, and rain is starting to collect in our boat. I started rowing like a mad man against the wind, cursing at the paddles and this boat for not going faster, when Katelyn said to me “just take a break for a second and catch you breath.
So, I said to her “okay, put the anchor down so we don’t drift backward”... and then it dawned on us: the anchor was down the whole time. I had drug this cement filled coffee can clear across this whole lake. When I pulled it up, 10 pounds of seaweed covered the can. I was outraged at the situation: the rain, the boat, the anchor! Katelyn, though, was beside herself in laughter, nearly in tears at how funny it all was. I rowed us to the dock and we made it to the car just as the hail began.
Katelyn has always been good humored, able to laugh at herself and situations outside her control. I get frustrated, impatient with the wind and waves that arise in life. Our literal storm experience mirrored our lived experience. There’s nothing like a storm to teach you about the people who are in your boat, yourself included.
At first, Jesus doesn’t seem to be the person you want in your boat when the storm hits. He’s been preaching and teaching all day, using the same boat as a pulpit. So I’m not surprised at all that he’s sleeping on a cushion at the front of the boat.When the wind kicks up and the waves start crashing, the disci

Mark 4:26-34
[Jesus] also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.






























Instead of passing out mustard seeds to everyone, like I’ve done before – in classes and worship where this parable is concerned – I thought I’d do a little searching online for pictures and images of mustard plants to remind us more of what Jesus is talking about in this morning’s Gospel.
But I will start with a picture of a mustard seed.























































































































They’re small, just like Jesus says they are. Not the smallest seed you and I might ever see, but maybe they were the smallest seeds known to Jesus, and his people, and to the region where he was living back in the day. And I found some pictures of the plants these seeds turn into, too, since that’s much of the point of Jesus’ parables this morning.
And what I found may or may not be as interesting or as surprising to some of you farming, gardening, green-thumbing types as it was to me.
When Jesus talks about this mustard seed becoming something worthy of a nest, I was expecting something more like a tree. But mostly what I found were pictures like this:























































































































… and this:























































































































… and this:























































































































This is why it’s funny that Jesus ever even talked about the mustard seed at all. See, we’re used to hearing agricultural illustrations and farming metaphors in the Bible an

Mark 3:20-35
…and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.
“Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”
Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”






























Grace, mercy, and peace be yours today from God: Father, +Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
With the two fine preachers we have here at Cross of Grace, I didn’t think I would have another chance to be at this pulpit, but I am grateful for it as they are off tending to the business of the larger church. And we pray for them in that work.
This Gospel text is a sort of mishmash is it not? It jumps around from Jesus and the crowds to Jesus and the temple scribes and to Jesus and his family. And what is central to it all is that Jesus is caught in the middle—in the middle of the crowds;
in the middle of a dispute with the scribes;
and in the middle of a family squabble.
But, reading the Gospels, that’s where we often find Jesus—Caught in the Middle.
At the beginning of the text, we find Jesus going home. He had just picked his twelve disciples and no doubt had been on the dusty roads for a time and wanted peace and quiet and a home cooked meal.
But the crowds followed him home and were so big and persistent that Jesus and his new friends could not even eat their meal. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus was always drawing crowds —he was famous for his healing miracles…for changing water into wine…and for his teaching. Sometimes he had to flee from them. Once he even had to escape on a boat.
These pressing crowds remind me of the Caitlin Clark effect. She can’t go anywhere these days. Kids and adults hound her for an autograph and hand slaps as she comes and goes on the court her presence is filling arena across the country. I’m guessing she can’t even go to a restaurant without crowds bothering her.
Jesus’ own family went out to rescue him as the crowds were saying he was crazy. Jesus was caught in the middle of it all.
And then came the confrontation with the scribes—those annoying holy men who professed to have all the truths about God and saying how Jesus should be acting/behaving if he was truly God’s son.
They tried to trap him by equating him with Satan and deeming him a blasphemous, false messiah. In refuting his baptism by the Holy Spirit; claiming that he associated with all the wrong people; by not behaving as a righteous person should behave, they were trying to make the case against him. In so doing they themselves were blaspheming against the Holy Spirit and this is when Jesus has enough and utters his word about that sin being the only unforgivable one.
Jesus caught in the middle o

Mark 2:23-3:6
One sabbath he was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence,
which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”
Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored.
The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.






























The hardest assignment I ever had in seminary was to put down the duckie. To explain what that means, I’ll need a little help from Ernie and Hoots the Owl.






























In seminary I took a class called Soil and Sabbath with Nate Stucky, professor of Old Testament and director of the Farminary, this magical place that combined small scale agriculture and theological education. At the first class, Nate had us pick up a duck and as I remember it, the duck, much like Ernie and his duck, represented the thing we clung to so tightly.
And for a bunch of young people at seminary, we held fervently to our identities as students, achievers, who wrote impressive papers, read lots of books, and would become great pastors and professors because of all that. The assignment that was so hard was this: put down your duck for at least six consecutive hours each week and during these six hours write down, tell someone, or otherwise recall a story of God’s saving action or provision. And while six hours may not sound like much, it was surprisingly difficult. After a few hours I would get antsy knowing there were always more pages to read, a study group to attend, or papers to work on. And it didn’t just affect me.
This practice of sabbath, of putting down the duck, was Katelyn’s favorite assignment. She loved the rhythm it enforced in our newly minted marriage and the fact that for six hours she didn’t have to hear about some boring book or theologian. I didn’t always keep my Sabbath. At midterms and finals, I carried my duck 24/7. And after the class, our sabbath [my sabbath] was never as intentional as it was that first semester.
This assignment, more than any other, showed me how my worth, how good of a pastor I would be, how I saw and understood myself, was wrapped up in what I produced, by how busy I was, and how well I did in my classes.Stopping, even for six hours, disrupted all of that. But that’s exactly what sabbath is supposed to do.
The commandment to observe the sabbath is listed in two places in the Bible. In Exodus, God spoke to Moses and said “Remember the sabbath, keep it holy” and gave this explanation as to why: “for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them, but rested the 7th day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it”. In short, do as God did. God rested from work so you should rest from work.
Deuteronomy, however, is a bit different. It’s the same commandment, but a different explanation. “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God b

John 3:1-17
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do the signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus said to him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can one be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
Jesus said to him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born of water and spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh and what is born of the spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I have said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus said, “Are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?
Very truly I tell you, we speak about what we know and we testify to what we have seen and you do not receive our testimony. If I tell you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man, and just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”






























Holy Trinity Sunday can be kind of a chore for preachers and kind of a snore for those who show up for worship – and on a holiday weekend, no less. On Holy Trinity Sunday, preachers are invited – and expected, maybe – to do the theological gymnastics of TEACHING more than PREACHING, it seems to me, about the doctrine of God’s identity that church people call the Trinity … about the namesake of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit … about how they are three in one and one in three … about how they relate to and through one another and to you and me in a very academic sense. Like I said … a chore and a snore. There’s a place for all of that, don’t get me wrong. I’m just inclined to think it’s more meaningful in the classroom than in the sanctuary. It’s a head thing, not a heart thing, if you will. And I believe worship is a place for more of the latter.
One of the redeeming things, though, about the lectionary on a high-minded, theologically taxing day like today, is that we get to wonder about this moment between Jesus and Nicodemus as part of it all. See, I imagine Nicodemus seeks Jesus out, looking for something like a little academic instruction … some intellectual insight … some theological gymnastics of his own that he can use to either find some common ground or fight with Jesus about it all.
And Jesus surprises Nicodemus by being all “you must be born from above” … and “what is born of the flesh is flesh,” and “what is born of the spirit is spirit” … and “the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind.” And Nicodemus is like, “How can these things be?!?!”
I had a conversation not long ago, that came to mind when I read, again, about Nicodemus coming to Jesus – by night – with his questions about life and faith, flesh and spirit, signs and salvation, and the nature of God. My questioner came by night, too. We were in a bar. This young man knew what I do for a living and, like Nicodemus, had some questions. (I don’t remember them exactly, to be honest. Did I mention we were in a bar? And ha

John 15:26-27; 164b-15
Jesus continued… ”When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf. You also are to testify because you have been with me from the beginning.
But I have said these things to you so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you about them. “I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I am going to him who sent me; yet none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts.
Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. 
And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment: about sin, because they do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the Father and you will see me no longer; about judgment, because the ruler of this world has been condemned. 
“I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. 
He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.























































































































For the fourth week in a row, we are still in Jesus’ farewell discourse, a long farewell to his disciples. In my mind, it's similar to our midwestern goodbye. You must know what I mean. It starts off with a loud “welp” to initiate the process, followed by saying goodbye in the living room, again at the front door, and then a final goodbye in the driveway with conversation at each point along the way. And believe me, I am not knocking the midwest goodbye! If anything I do it pretty well! And I think we do this long process because saying goodbye is hard.
Finding the right words, the right tone, it’s all hard. Shakespeare was certainly right, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” Leaving brings pain and yet at the same time rouses a sense of hope and anticipation of coming together again. In his goodbye to the disciples, Jesus says, “I tell you the truth; it is to your advantage that I go away”. When someone is saying goodbye, I don’t think we necessarily always want the truth. The truth can be unnerving, shocking even. Like when someone’s going back for surgery you don’t say, “Well the truth is I might not ever see you again”. That’s not helpful or comforting in any way. We would much rather have a promise, “I’ll be right here when you get back”. 
Here, however, Jesus gives the disciples both. The truth is, it is better for you that I go away. And here we should pause. How can it be better that Jesus go away? For many, if not most, people in the Christian tradition, closeness to Jesus is the most important thing. We long to be close to Jesus, to be in a relationship with Jesus. 
And we wait with great anticipation for Jesus' return, for the time when he will once again be close in a physical, incarnate way as he was. Being far away, separated from Jesus then would be the worst thing for our faith. Why then, is it to the advantage of the disciples that Jesus goes away? And is that to our advantage too? How can Jesus saying goodbye be a good thin