The Lutheran Podcast ericthelutheran

Today’s gospel is one in which we find some stunning decisions. Some lead to great increase and new responsibility; others lead to a no good very bad terrible day. 

The Gospel isn’t concerned with what we produce, but that we use what we’re given somehow. The talents given are grace-filled opportunities to do what we can with what we have. How will you respond?

Psalm 46 speaks of the desolations God brings to the earth, and it’s our habit to think of floods and disasters. What God desolates is the implements of war — the bow, the spear, the chariots — the M-16, the Tomahawk Missile, the tank. 

The ongoing work of reforming our hearts is the never ending process of tearing our wars apart. 

Jesus calls us to see God’s kingdom, not as a place of easy living, but of living together in good times and in bad. 

What does this vision inspire in you?

Note: I read the Gospel and begin the sermon from one of the pews, rather than from the pulpit. I move to the pulpit after a couple minutes. It may be impossible to know this from the audio context.

What does it mean to apologize; to forgive; to reconcile?

How do we judge the value of these things, and how do we recognize sincerity?

God offers us grace without any price, but grace always comes at the cost of settling for new opportunities for renewed relationship rather than an evening of the scales.

How do we find what God proclaims to us through the death and resurrection of Jesus for our sake, the joy of forgiveness without any expectation that we'll return the favor?

Immediately preceding this reading, Peter confessed Jesus to be Messiah, and Jesus told him "good job!" Well, essentially. 

This week we see a different side of Peter and a different message from Jesus, who tells Peter in no uncertain terms that love requires sacrifice. God is providing the lamb. Anyone trying to distract him from this is at odds with God's will.

What do we do with this?

This sermon takes place the week after a challenging congregational meeting. I don't mean "challenging", as in code for "look, the roof is fire and the floor is fire and everything is fire!". I mean it in the sense that we had a couple of important decisions to make, and a member spoke from the depths of their heart and then left the meeting when the vote went another way. 

It was **challenging**. But challenging is healthy, and we need to do the hard things sometimes.

During the week between these Sundays, I was in a person's house with whom I'd had a "challenging" conflict in September 2021. In this case, I mean "challenging" as code for "look, the roof is fire and the floor is fire and everything is fire!". The exceedingly short version is during this visit they disclosed to me that I hurt them deeply, that they felt ignored and marginalized after. More, I followed up ineffective attempts at reconciliation by accepting the terrible advice to "let it lie so it will settle". this made them feel like I didn't even find them important enough to worry about, and deepened their hurt and anger. 

As people of God, we're called not to hold grudges. In that vein, I don't believe this person is holding a grudge. I believe they're still wounded, and I believe I left it open and seeping by not pushing harder to help them dictate what healing looks like.

All that to say this: 

So I wrote a sermon, and all this is its context. 

Grace & Peace,

pew