Sermon Audio – Cross of Grace

Cross of Grace Lutheran Church
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Weekly audio of sermons preached at Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana

  1. 1d ago

    Spiritual Gifts and The Body of Christ

    Spiritual Gifts and The Body of Christ Dr. Joelle Hathaway Our own Dr. Joelle Hathaway, Assistant Professor of Theological Studies at Bethany Theological Seminary, joined us as our last guest preacher for the summer. It’s been good to hear new voices and to share different perspectives, like hers, while Pastor Cogan was away for his family leave the last few months.

  2. Aug 16

    A Jerk Like Jesus

    A Jerk Like Jesus Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 15:21-28 Jesus left that place and went to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then, a Canaanite woman from that region came to him and cried out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon.” Jesus didn’t answer her at all. His disciples said to him, “Send her away from here. She keeps shouting after us.” Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But the woman came, and kneeling before him, said, “Lord, help me.” And Jesus replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” The woman replied, “Yes, Lord. But even dogs get the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” Jesus said, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed, instantly. I make it a point not to compare myself to Jesus – for so many reasons. But I found myself doing just that this week when I sat down to wrestle with this difficult Gospel reading. This one hit differently, for a change, and not in a good way. What I mean is, like we just heard from Jesus, I was sort of a jerk to a couple of people who needed my help this week. I wasn’t as mean as Jesus, honestly – I didn’t call anyone a “dog” – but I was kind of a jerk, nonetheless. But first, I’d rather talk about talk about Jesus. He and the disciples are spreading the Word, their working miracles, their feeding, healing, and teaching. I’m sure they’re still talking about how Peter walked on water, which we heard about last week. And then along comes this woman – a Canaanite woman; a Gentile woman in the land of Gentiles; and she wants to talk to Jesus. She wants his mercy and his blessing and his healing for her sick daughter and she has the nerve to ask him for it. I say “nerve” because she was a Gentile, a Canaanite. She was not a Jew, like Jesus and his disciples. She was NOT one of the “lost sheep of the house of Israel,” as Jesus puts it. And because of that, she wasn’t on his agenda or in his plans or on his list of priorities. Even though they were in her neck of the woods – the region of Tyre and Sidon – neither Jesus nor his disciples wanted anything to do with her. “Send her away,” the disciples say, “she keeps shouting after us.” “Lose her before she makes a scene.” And Jesus tries to brush her off, himself: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” “I really am only here for the Jews. Not for Gentiles. Not for Canaanites. Not for the likes of her.” But she doesn’t give up. She keeps after him. She persists, like any good mother would, who really wanted help for her sick child. And, even after hearing all of this, she kneels before Jesus, utterly humbling herself, and she begs him … simply … “Lord, help me.” And it gets worse before it gets better. If there’s any doubt that Jesus didn’t want anything to do with this lady, listen when he says, “It’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” That is as bad as it sounds. He compares her to a dog – unworthy of receiving the same blessings he came to share with his fellow Jews; with “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” *** Now, a little sidebar here. I have preached and taught about this text several times over the years and usually take the same tack … to make it about race, for instance; or ministry to the “other,” for example; or about doing away with the social and cultural divisions that separate people from each other – like how Jesus and his disciples saw themselves as separate from – maybe better than – that Canaanite woman. I like to talk about how even Jesus was influenced by his culture and community and about how even he had to learn and be persuaded to see God’s grace as deeper and wider and more all-encompassing than he was first inclined. And I think that is quite a compelling lesson to be learned here. But I’ve been there and done that – as far as sermons go – so this time around it hit differently, as I said. *** Whatever it was that made Jesus rebuff, dismiss, and ignore the needs of this woman, this is hard to hear because either he meant it, which can’t be good. Or because he was messing with her to test the fortitude of her faithfulness, which isn’t great, either. Or maybe, like me this week, Jesus was just tired and feeling rushed and put upon and taken for granted by people who needed their emergency to become his emergency at a time when he just didn’t feel like he had it in him. (For me it was phone calls and requests from some folks outside of the congregation – none of you, in other words. One was from a guy who needed help at the food pantry – NOW; another was someone looking for marriage counseling; and another was a woman who had a sick child, was out of work following surgery, and who needed help with her rent … IMMEDIATELY.) For what it’s worth, like Jesus, I ultimately helped two of them and I plan to call the third. I just wasn’t my best self along the way or in my heart of hearts … I was a little slow on the uptake, a little frustrated in the meantime, I was cynical, suspicious, and skeptical about the “need” of their “need.” I dragged my feet and I thought some thoughts, if you know what I mean. So, while I don’t like experiencing or seeing or admitting to this side of myself – or to this side of Jesus – bear with me for a minute. To not see this side of the story is to miss something significant; something practical; something holy. Because what we see – for my money – is one of the greatest examples of Jesus’ humanity. Even Jesus could put up barriers. Even Jesus had blinders on every now and again. Even Jesus, it seems, had trouble feeling the pain, understanding the need, recognizing the desperation of those who weren’t like him. And even Jesus struggled to acknowledge the difference his kind of GRACE could mean for some people. It’s not the picture I’ve painted of Jesus in our heart of hearts, for the most part. It’s not the gracious response we’ve come to expect from our Lord. It’s not the open arms and the open heart and the open mind I’d rather tell you about. And if this was true for Jesus from time to time – shouldn’t each of us imagine … wonder about … consider deeply ... acknowledge – that it might also be true of us in more ways than we are always able to recognize or willing to admit? And, as hard as it may be to see in Jesus or to acknowledge about ourselves, we should, because I believe what happens next for Jesus, and by God’s grace, is the point in all of this. What happens when Jesus encounters this nameless Canaanite woman – seemingly so different from him and his kind – is that he learns something about her, about himself, and about the power and potential of his ministry. This annoying, persistent, desperate woman – searching for her daughter’s cure – pushed Jesus and his ministry to a new level. What she showed Jesus and what she shows us is that we can open ourselves up in surprising ways. We learn from Jesus that his ministry – and ours – is for those we don’t always understand or “see” and who experience the world differently than we do. The guy who got help from the pantry was humbly grateful for it this week, as he always is. The woman whose rent I paid could barely contain her great joy and sincere gratitude when I called to tell her I was on the way to deliver it – she wept with gratitude and raised a few “hallelujah’s.” Her landlord told me I didn’t even know the kind of blessing I was able to be for her this week. (Which wasn’t me, by the way. I just got to deliver that blessing, thanks to the funds you all contribute to our Pastors’ Discretionary Account for such occasions.) So for me, the Good News in this morning’s Gospel is found in the humanity we’re allowed to see in Jesus – and allowed to acknowledge in ourselves, because of it. The even better Good News in this morning’s Gospel is that Jesus, in spite of that humanity, makes a change. And the best news of all in this morning’s Gospel is that it’s a call to invite that kind of change in ourselves – to slow down and to see people more clearly, more fully, more patiently; for the sake of grace … for the sake of mercy … for the sake of the world our God so loves. Amen

  3. Aug 9

    Kingdom Potential

    Kingdom Potential Pastor Scott Nellis We were fortunate to have Pastor Scott Nellis join us - all the way from the great state of Ohio - for worship this weekend. Scott began his ministry at Cross of Grace and felt called to ordination while here. It was good to hear where he’s been, what he’s been up to, and how he’s serving God’s church in the world as he tries to live up to and into the potential God hopes for us all.

  4. Aug 2

    YOU Give Them Something to Eat

    YOU Give Them Something to Eat Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 14:13-21 Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’ They replied, ‘We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.’ And he said, ‘Bring them here to me.’ Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. This feeding of the 5,000 is one of Jesus’ great miracles – maybe THE great miracle, if there were a popularity contest. (You’ve got water to wine, walking on water, lots of healing here and there, and this feeding of the 5,000, right?) We wonder about how in the world Jesus could take just five loaves of bread and two fish and feed that many people. We marvel at all those leftovers – 12 baskets full – and the idea that if there were about 5,000 men – not including women and children – how many people Jesus really must have fed at the end of that day. I also always marvel at the compassion Jesus mustered for the crowds that afternoon, when all he really wanted was to be alone, to grieve after learning that his cousin and friend, John the Baptist, had just died. It’s amazing to think about all of the people he must have healed or taught or sat with and listened to, in the midst of his grief. And you have to wonder what it was that he said to himself when he looked up to heaven and blessed and broke that food, before making the miracle happen. But the disciples were there too. And while it’s easy to wonder about all of the other stuff – to focus on the size of the crowds and the lack of food and the miracle of it all – I also think about those disciples. It had been a long day and they were probably tired, too. Their appeal to Jesus to let the crowd go get some food, was probably just as much about them getting the heck out of there, too. Never mind the 5,000 … those five loaves and two fish weren’t all that much for 12 tired, hungry disciples, either. And in the face of their questions … in response to their doubts … in spite of their laziness … whatever it may have been … Jesus says, “YOU give them something to eat.” “What do you mean, ‘you’? You want US to feed THEM? Maybe you haven’t noticed, Jesus, but there’s like 5,000 people on this hill and all we brought with us is a couple of stinky fish and a few loaves of sourdough.” “Yes,” Jesus said. “YOU give them something to eat.” See, the miracle’s a good one and it makes a great story, but if we only focus on what Jesus prayed or on trying to figure out how he did what he did, or on the crowds or the fish or the bread and the math – I think we miss the point. Just like the rest of Jesus’ parables – and the ones we’ve been hearing the last couple of weeks – they really aren’t about yeast or pearls or nets; they aren’t about weeds, seeds, soil, or gardening. And today isn’t really about fish or bread or a hillside picnic. For me, the Gospel – the Good News – in the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand is found in Jesus’ short and simple response to the disciples: “YOU give them something to eat.” Sure the disciples are skeptical. Yes Jesus does whatever he does to make the food go as far as it did. But, what he says and what the disciples do is even more profound and powerful: “YOU give them something to eat.” Don’t send them away. Don’t look for a way out. Don’t hope for someone else to do it. Don’t wait for tomorrow, even. “YOU give them something to eat.” “And do it now.” And don’t we sound and act like the disciples too much of the time? We don’t have enough bread – whether that means time, or money; energy, willingness, or ability; faith, love, compassion, or whatever. We’re skeptical. We’re pessimistic. We’re preoccupied, distracted, lazy, uninspired, selfish, insecure, unconvinced, we have so many other, better things to do – maybe all the things those disciples were feeling that day. A lot of the time, if you’re anything like me, you’re just downright full of really good excuses. But just like the disciples in the Gospel, Jesus gives us something greater than even our best excuses. He gives us more than just another miracle, too. He gives us something better even then bread and fish to chew on. Jesus reveals to us just what a high opinion God has – not only of the lost and lonely; the sick and needy people on the hillside that day for whom he shows so much compassion – but Jesus reveals what a high opinion God has of those who believe in and who want to follow him so faithfully. What I hear Jesus saying is, “Don’t pretend you don’t have the time or the skills or the resources to do God’s work in this world.” “Don’t pretend you’re not qualified or capable.” “Don’t put it off for another day or time or moment when it might be more convenient.” “And don’t wait for me to do it in your place.” “YOU give them something to eat.” Which is what I hope you notice and want to be a part of around here – doing the work of the Kingdom, I mean, in and for the sake of the the communities we serve at Cross of Grace. Of course, I think of our Food Pantry and Agape Ministries and Project Rouj in Haiti, that literally support and feed people in gracious, powerful ways. But I think about our CarePortal Crew, too, who does this in ways that continue to surprise me. Stephanie Smith sends an e-mail every couple of weeks with requests for everything from diapers to bed frames to clothing to swing-sets. Ostensibly, she’s saying, “You give them something to eat – or somewhere to sleep, or something to wear, or whatever the need may be,” and before you know it diapers and clothes and all the rest start showing up – from so many of you – to be delivered to children and families nearby. It’s as miraculous as it is simple, if you ask me. And I think about less-obvious things like our Summer Reading Program, too. Inspired by a desire to help English Learners in our neck of the woods, I proposed this idea with more hope than I had plans – a couple of stinky fish and some crumbs of bread, if you will. But we had dozens of Cross of Gracers sign up and show up to make it happen. We didn’t pack a hillside every Wednesday, this summer, but we consistently gave about a dozen children a regular dose of patience, time, opportunity, and learning over the course of the last couple of months that I believe fed and filled them in some meaningful ways that will last and linger as they begin another school year. And, of course, I have in mind the fantastic week of our “Toy Story” themed Camp @ Church that we just pulled out of our behinds. When Lutheran Outdoor Ministries canceled our annual Camp @ Church about a month out, it was temping … it would have been easy – and reasonable – to just cancel the whole thing and try again next year. There wasn’t enough time. There wouldn’t be enough resources, ideas, hands-on-deck. These kids and families could have found other ways and places to fill their days, instead. But we decided to give them something to eat, after all. Day after day, there were crafts and songs and Bible Studies and games and – no loaves and fish – but plenty of good food, too. Every day, 45 kids – and a gaggle of men, women, and teens, too – were filled to overflowing with reminders of God’s love for them, with the Truth of their value in God’s eyes, with the promise of their call to love one another, with the hope of their place in God’s story. This is all a reminder that there is some way each of us can help to feed somebody else – literally or otherwise – through the ministry we share here. Maybe it’s helping with Sunday school this fall, sharing a meal, helping to clean, mowing the lawn, getting onto that CarePortal e-mail list, or showing up for the CrossRoads class to learn more. Let’s not wait for someone else to do it. Let’s not pretend we aren’t capable or qualified or called, even, to respond to the needs around us, in this place or in our world. And let’s not wait for Jesus to do it all by himself, either – that was never God’s plan. No, let’s be amazed by the story. Let’s wonder about the miracle on that hillside. But let’s think about our mission here – as a congregation and as individuals trying to follow the ways of Jesus. Let’s hear the command to give the world something to eat. And let’s realize that we have all we need to make that happen – that because of God’s love for us, we are called and capable of doing the work of love and grace and generosity for the sake of the world. And let’s trust that when we do, there will be more than enough of go around – with leftovers besides. Amen

  5. Jul 26

    Change and Grace

    Change and Grace Pastor Dan Forehand We were fortunate to welcome Pastor Dan Forehand, Assistant to the Bishop for Emerging Ministers and Ministries, in the Indiana-Kentucky Synod, to our pulpit. Dan is also a Partner in Mission at Cross of Grace and it is a blessing to hear from different voices over the course of the summer while Pastor Cogan is away on Family Leave.

  6. Jul 19

    Weeds, Wheat, God's Work and Ours

    Weeds, Wheat, God's Work and Ours Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 [Jesus] put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may compared to somebody who sowed good seed in his field, but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away, so that when the plants grew and put forth grain, the weeds appeared as well. So the slaves said to the householder, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where then did these weeds come from?” He replied, “An enemy has done this.” They said to him, “Do you want us to go out and gather them?” He said, “No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat, as well. Let them grow together until the harvest and at the harvest I will tell my reapers, ‘Go and collect the weeds first and bind them into bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’” Then Jesus left the crowds and went into the house. His disciples came and said to him, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He said to them, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evildoer; the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age; and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are thrown into the fire to be burned, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels to collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers and they will be thrown into furnace of fire where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their father. Let anyone with ears listen!” Many of you know I spent the week before last with a dozen of our high school youth, over in Ohio. Most of our time was spent at Bellwether Farm, an Episcopal camp and retreat center, that includes a fully operational farm with pigs and goats and cattle and chickens. (One of the sows gave birth to her first litter of 11 piglets the night before we arrived, which was pretty cool.) They also grow a lot of the food, which they serve to guests and campers by way of their farm-to-table kitchen – and very capable and skilled chef, Kevin. So, while we fed some pigs, collected eggs from the chickens, and milked a goat, our first farm chore of the week was to pull weeds – so many weeds – from around the pepper plants growing in one of the very wet fields behind our sleeping quarters. I couldn’t help but think of this when I got back to reality and this parable of the weeds of the field was on deck for this morning. We experienced, first-hand, what the householder in Jesus’ parable was talking about when he warned against uprooting the good stuff along with the weeds. First of all, most of us needed to be told very clearly about what we were to pull and what we were to leave behind – what the pepper plants looked like and what the weeds were; and that it was actually okay to pull the stray tomato plants that had made their way into the plot of peppers, too. Secondly, it had rained so much the week before we arrived at the farm that – the soft soil was so wet – that it was very easy to “uproot the good plants along with the weeds,” if you weren’t very careful. In fact, if you were doing it right, you almost had to hold the good plants you wanted to leave in the ground with one hand, while pulling the weeds around them out with the other. (I learned after-the-fact that some of us were better at that than others.) My wife will be the first to tell you, I’m not much of a gardener. I’ll water a plant when I’m asked. I will pull weeds in the mulch around the flower beds at my house. But gardening isn’t my thing as much as it is hers. I certainly wouldn’t mess around with weeding someone else’s garden, without an invitation and very clear instructions, like the ones at the farm with the kids, because I’d have a hard time knowing what I should pull up and what I should throw away and what I should leave well enough alone. And that’s something like what Jesus’ parable is all about this morning. His disciples want to know about how they should handle this allegorical, cosmic sort of weeding project he was describing. We know – and the disciples finally figure out – that the weeds in Jesus’ story represent the evil that springs up in the world, and Jesus wants them – and us – to think about those weeds – and all the sin and evil they represent – differently than we’re inclined to most of the time. What I mean is, our first intention, our first temptation, our first desire, too often, is to determine who is or what are to be considered “weeds” and who is or what are to be considered “good seed.” When we talk about heaven and hell, about the end of time, about the coming of God’s kingdom, about “the harvest” as it were – our great desire is to be on the right side of that proverbial fence; to be on the winning team; to choose up sides, so that we aren’t one of the ones who gets “left behind.” And this leads to even greater and scarier temptations. Temptations to point fingers and decide who’s right and who’s wrong. Temptations to make decisions about who’s worthy and who’s not. Temptations to judge – by our standards – who’s good or bad, who’s saved or damned, who’s forgiven or not, who’s welcome or not, who’s loved or loveable or whatever, or not. And we know how ugly this can become. In Jesus’ time, it was the Pharisees who did a lot of the finger-pointing. They worried about who was eating what, or who was working on the Sabbath, or who wasn’t following the law to the letter. These were well-intended, God-fearing, faithful people and based on their fears and worries, they pretended to determine who should be in and who should be out. And, while the Pharisees get a bad rap so much of the time, we don’t have to look very hard to find instances in our world – or in our own circles – or in our own heart of hearts – where people take it upon themselves to make decisions about who should be in and who should be out – decisions about “pulling weeds from wheat,” as Jesus might say. - The Ohio and Indiana highways to and from my road trip with the kids last week are littered with billboards warning drivers to repent, to get ready, to follow Jesus or else – to “turn or burn” like so many weeds, I suppose. - Someone set an Israeli flag on fire in Zionsville a week and a half ago, in what looks like a hate crime, they say. - Our Lieutenant Governor has doubled-down on his disdain for Muslim people and their calls to prayer. - Too many Christian denominations continue to treat women like weeds, preventing them from preaching or leading in meaningful ways. The list goes on… So what I hear in Jesus’ parable is that there are too many of us choosing not to grow alongside too many others of us. And I believe Jesus is challenging us with this parable, to remember that weeding the field of God’s world is not our work to do; it’s not our garden to tend; it’s not our Kingdom to cultivate, all by ourselves. Whether we do it out of fear or out of love… out of genuine concern or out of ignorance… with all the Biblical scholarship and well-reasoned theology or not, Jesus tells us that this sort of thing is not our job, when it comes to the kingdom of heaven. Jesus tells us God is the one – “The Son of Man will send his angels” he says, and then “at the end of the age.” What that means to me – at the very least – is that we’re to leave the weed pulling and the weeping and the gnashing of teeth, for another time – and to more capable hands. Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting we “live and let live” to the point that the weeds of hatred, intolerance, racism, willful ignorance, and injustice are given a pass for the sake of “going along to get along.” I’m not suggesting we bury our heads in the sand … that we live and let live … and leave well enough alone. I’m saying that we may not have weeds to pull, but there are other chores to tend to: there are pigs to feed, and eggs to collect, and goats to milk. There are churches to build, people to feed, neighbors to love, and enemies to forgive. I’m hopeful that the good seeds of the work of justice, love, and grace; the good seeds of mercy, forgiveness, and transformation, will grow boldly and bravely, faithfully and resiliently alongside all of those weeds – in spite of all of those weeds – and until all of the world’s weeds – are transformed to bear fruit worthy of God’s Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.” That is hard, holy work for sure. And some of us – people of privilege, mostly – have some heavy lifting to do, in this regard. If the weed is racism, those who benefit from racist systems have some growing alongside to do… If the weed is sexism, good men in our culture have some growing alongside to do… If the weeds are willful ignorance, intolerance, systemic injustice, or greed, many of us have some learning, and repenting, and growing alongside to do… And this “growing alongside” is hard and holy because it looks like humility and change and forgiveness and persistence. And it is God’s call to the Church, because it is much more Christ-like than all the world’s weeping and gnashing of teeth can muster. It’s harder to “grow alongside” … and to bear fruit among the weeds … and to trust that God’s way of grace will win the day. But I believe it will, in the end, for the sake of the world. I believe we can do this work precisely because Go

  7. Jul 12

    Still Sowing After All These Years

    Still Sowing After All These Years Pastor Teri Ditslear We are blessed to have a series of guest preachers join us this summer to share sermons while Pastor Cogan is away on family leave. This is a great way to hear from a variety of voices while we have the opportunity. It’s also a meaningful way to give Pastor Mark a break from doing all of the preaching, all of the time. This Sunday’s guest was Pastor Teri Ditslear whose visit, as a former Pastor and Partner in Mission at Cross of Grace, coincided nicely with our 25th Anniversary celebration and with the groundbreaking blessing for our next building project.

  8. Jul 5

    Unburdened for Mission

    Unburdened for Mission Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 [Jesus said,] “But to what shall I compare this generation? They are like children in the market places, calling, ‘We played he flute for you and you would not dance. We wailed and you did not mourn.’ For John came neither eating nor drinking and they said, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking and they said, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard. A friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ Yet, wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.” At that time, Jesus said, “I thank you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and you have revealed them to children, for such was your gracious will. All things, in heaven and on earth, have been handed over to me by my Father. For no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Can you think of a time recently when a burden was lifted for you? Or when your load was lightened in some way – literally or figuratively? Maybe it was a worldly, practical kind of lifting… or maybe it was a deeper, more spiritual sort of unloading you needed… I’m getting ready to leave for the summer trip with the High School Youth tomorrow morning. We’re heading to Ohio, stopping by Capital University for a tour of my favorite Lutheran college campus, we’ll spend a couple of days working, learning, and unplugging on a farm, north of there, then we’ll have a day at Cedar Point before coming home. Pastor Cogan did the initial, heavy-lifting of setting the itinerary, renting the van, reserving the rooms, and what-not before taking off for his paternity leave. And I’ve been grateful for that as the trip has gotten closer. Dianne Kaucher has agreed to be here on Wednesday to make sure things are ready when the kids show up for our Summer Reading Program, since I can’t be here. And on Friday, Donna Kuffner said she’d take care of getting the snacks for that day, knowing I had a lot on my plate getting ready to be gone. Many of you’ve heard that our annual Camp @ Church program canceled on us and I’ve been grateful for those of you who’ve offered to step up and help me make that program happen, anyway. And I’m grateful for every e-mail and decision Lance Oxley deals with where the building project is concerned, and every time I see Kent Kuffner mowing the labyrinth, or Steve Beebe digging a ditch, or Gayle gathering the troops for our 25th Anniversary festival, or any number of you cleaning the building. The list goes on. You get the idea. It’s nice, isn’t it, when something gets removed from your litany of things to do? It’s a gift to move something from your full plate onto someone else’s. It’s a relief to be unburdened, to have someone help carry the weight of a task at hand or to remove a worry from you list. Which is what I hear in Jesus’ words from this morning’s Gospel. And, he’s talking about more, of course, than what’s on our everyday lists of things to do. The passage seems disconnected, you might think, with all that talk about children in the marketplaces who play the flute but no one dances, or who wail but no one mourns. And when he talks about John the Baptist who was thought to be possessed by demons, because he didn’t eat and drink like so many others. But that when Jesus did the opposite – ate and drank like the rest of the world, with tax collectors and sinner, even – they called him a glutton and a drunk. Jesus is comparing the people of his generation to little children, playing games with their faith. People didn’t like John because he didn’t eat and drink like the rest of them. And they didn’t like Jesus because he did. In other words, the people of his time were fickle and played around with notions of what God was, with who the Messiah might be, with what salvation was supposed to look like or who heaven could include. And there’s nothing new under the sun, sadly. Christians and people of faith do the same, still. We add up sins – our own and those of others. We judge – ourselves and one another. We compare. We choose sides. We pick winners and we declare losers. We can be a fickle, faithless, lot of God’s children. And just like even Jesus experienced, we realize, too often, that we don’t live up to the world’s standards and expectations. And we may have a hard time living up to the unrealistic expectations we’ve laid out for ourselves, a lot of the time, too. So, heavier than anything on our “To Do Lists,” we bear these expectations like yokes – those heavy wooden bars laid across the shoulders of oxen and asses and other beasts of burden who plowed the fields in the days of Jesus. And we bear them, not just over our shoulders or across our backs, but in our hearts and in our minds and in every part of our lives: Yokes of breaking or broken relationships… Burdens of guilt or shame or sin… Yokes of addiction… Burdens of illness and disease… Yokes of injustice, burdens of inadequacy, yokes of fear and worry… And this way of living is tedious and overbearing. It’s tiresome and overwhelming. It’s impossible, really. And it’s enough to wear a person out, to wipe out a person’s spirit, to dry up a person’s soul. And what we long for – whether we know it or not, or whether we’re slow to admit it – is for someone to call or stop by and to say, “Hey, let me get that for you?” “Why are you trying to do my job?” “I told you I would help, so why aren’t you letting me?” And along comes this Jesus. “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Jesus knew we would try too hard, for too long, for too many of the things that would continue to leave us hungry and thirsty and without answers, without comfort, without satisfaction and without any kind of meaning or peace in this life. Most of all, Jesus understood how tiring and weary and burdensome it could be for us to try to save us from ourselves, so he promises to do that for us. Jesus calls us to rest in the arms of God’s grace and to quit trying to win in the eyes of the world. And he shows us we can do that best when we know and believe and trust that we’ve already been won by the love of God, the Lord of heaven and earth. But that’s not all. It doesn’t end there. Because Pastor Cogan did so much of the planning for the High School trip… Because Donna picked up those snacks… Because Dianne will be here Wednesday… Because so many of you are committed to this new Camp @ Church mission… my plans, my agenda, my To-Do List? – it didn’t go away – it just changed, for the better. I could finish a sermon, sooner than expected this week. I could take communion to someone at home. I could prepare devotions for the Youth Trip. I could begin planning new stuff for Camp. And I even found time for a break. And finished a book, too. I’m not gonna lie. When someone lifts a burden for or from you, it frees you to do something else. Even if it’s just a matter of hours in your day, you’re all of a sudden freed up to accomplish something else in its place. And the freedom we have through God’s forgiveness in Jesus Christ is no different. Jesus calls us to trust that the burden of our sin and shame is lifted, as far as our Creator is concerned, so that we’ll be free to get about the business of living differently as a result. We are unburdened. We are un-yoked. We are un-tethered from whatever weighed us down. And we are let loose on the world – set free – changed by God’s grace – and allowed to transform the world with acts of mercy, generosity, grace, gratitude, and the love of God, in return. Amen

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Weekly audio of sermons preached at Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana

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