Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Amalia Vagts, Preacher

Mark 7:24-37, James 2:1-17

I’ve been watching a lot of Ordination services lately. Ordination is a special rite in the church for rostered ministers of word, sacrament, and service. I’ve been watching so many because I recently graduated from seminary and many of my classmates have been called to ministry settings. (And yes, I hope that I will be too, maybe soon – can I get an Amen?)

One part f the ordination rite that I especially love is when the minister reads these words: “And be of good courage, for God has called you, and your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

These words – “your labor is not in vain”- fit our texts this morning with a range of examples of work, works, and labor, but also the calendar falling on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. Al- though the day has taken on a pretty wide range of meanings from camping to store promotions to fashion advice, Labor Day was set aside to honor the movement to give dignity and rights to workers, as well as to honor the workers themselves.

In current American society, all of us participate in one way or another in the system of work. We are workers, we are bosses. We are without work. Some of us have retired from labor. Some of us are studying to prepare for working. Some of us welcome family members home at the end of the workday. Some work inside and some work outside the home. And some work ON the home.

We work to buy things. We sell things and trade things and want things. This system of working and labor does something to us. It creates opportunity and hope and joy and possibility, and in- justice and harm and illness and inhumanity. The system creates winners, losers, great loss, great fortune. Work drives greed and want and feelings of success and favoritism and desperation.

The apostle James talks about not only the results of this system of work, but also the works of love and care done by Christ-followers. And in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus performs works of healing, first to the Syrophencian woman’s daughter, and then to the one who cannot speak clearly or hear. Jesus touches him, sighs, and says to him, “Be opened.”

That sigh is more like a pressured groan. In its original language it is described as being like the exertion of childbirth. And the word Jesus speaks in Aramaic, ephphatha (eff-e-THA), is like the opening of a womb with the first born. The groan of childbirth, the opening of the womb: These are images of labor. This is life-giving, transformative work.

Jesus’ work transforms himself, the woman and her daughter, the man and his community, and you to new living, into a new kind of labor of love – the life-giving labor of being a follower of Christ. This new living in Christ, this life-giving labor is what James is talking about, being church: not going to church, not having a church, or joining the church, or leaving the church. James is talking about being church. Churching. If Church is the Body of Christ, then churching is being the Body of Christ. We are called to be the Body of Christ for the world, following the life and pattern of Christ who listens, touches, heals. These are verbs, this is action, this is a labor of love.

The “good news” that Jesus promises is that being Christ’s body is not about having the right relationship with God through right thinking, right behavior, right belief, right works. You are created in goodness by God and made just, justified, in order to be Christ’s body for the world.

Your right relationship with God in Christ is God’s gift, wholly separate from anything you do,  or don’t do.

The Gospel does do something to you, however. It leads you to a new way of being. The good news is that God perfecting love in Jesus Christ means you are free from a constant focus on perfecting yourself in order to be okay by God’s standards. This frees you to spontaneously love yourself and love, care and work for your neighbor as you do for yourself.

We confess that Jesus was conceived, born, suffered, died, and rose again to release you, to free you. There is no human joy or pain that is not fully known by God.

Jesus listened to the woman who begged for healing for her daughter. Jesus listened, and was opened. The woman spoke with conviction to the one she knew could answer her need. Ask yourself: In places where you have power, how deeply are you listening to the needs of others, and are you open to transformation? In places where you don’t have power, are you speaking with courage and conviction about your needs? A crowd of people brought forward one who needed healing. Jesus touched the one who was suffering. Ask yourself: How close do you get

to those who are suffering?

Jesus heals through listening, asking, helping, and getting close to those who suffer. Our world needs this healing from Jesus. And our world needs works of love from those of us who claim Jesus as our path.

This Sunday of Labor Day Weekend, remember you are a worker in God’s Beloved Community.

From as close as your neighborhood or dorm, to homes and schools in Afghanistan, to clinic waiting rooms, to the flooded basements of apartments in New York City, the need is clear and great. We can’t fix all of it, but as individuals and as a community we can labor with love and mercy. And as a faith community, we must wrestle with how we respond to the needs of the world: with a blessing only, or with faith and works of love that supply bodily needs, that alleviate hunger, illness, loneliness, suffering?

In the heart of the Triune God, you are enough and necessary and known and understood. You are freed to love, care and work for all the world. Christ says to you, “Be opened.” Be transformed and birthed into new living. And be of good courage, for God has called you and your labor is not in vain.

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Rev. Amy Zalk Larson

Click here to read scripture passages for the day.

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace in the name of Jesus.

The second lesson today, the Letter of James, encourages us not to be like people who look in the mirror and then just go away without anything changing.

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Do you focus on all the flaws, the dark circles under your eyes, the acne or the wrinkles (or both!). Do you notice all the ways you don’t measure up to your own or others’ standards? Or do you think, “You know it could be worse”, or even “Hey there, looking pretty good?” Does it depend on the day and the lighting?

What happens when you look into a metaphorical mirror? When you take a good long look at yourself and your life, what do you notice? Do you focus on your brokenness and failings? Or do you think, “Well, at least I’m not as bad as that person.”

Whether they’re literal or metaphorical, spending a lot of time looking into mirrors, or looking at our selfie pictures, rarely makes a positive impact on our lives. If you fixate on your failings you can start to think “I’m so messed up it is hopeless, I might as well just binge on ice cream and TV.” Or, you can develop a driven anxious sense that “I’ve got to fix this.” It’s also easy to get self-righteous as we look at others. Using ourselves as a reference point so often leads us to be judgmental of ourselves or others. It can lead to one of two ditches, despair or pride.

Often, we approach the Bible in the same way we look at ourselves in the mirror – as if the Bible is all about us and how good or bad we come off looking. We use the Bible to make harsh judgments of ourselves and others. This kind of approach can cause us to hear Psalms like Psalm 15 that we just sang and think, “Wow, I’m so far from walking blameless and doing what is right and speaking truth from my heart it’s hopeless; why even try to be better.” Or it can lead us to listen to the read- ings today and think, “You know I do give money to help widows and orphans and I don’t get hung up on rules like those scribes and Pharisees in that Gospel reading today. I guess I’m doing OK.”

When we approach the Bible like that, it doesn’t do anything for us. It just reflects back to us what we already think, what we already feel about ourselves and the world. When we approach the Bible in this way it has about as much effect on us as gazing into a mirror does – very little changes.

So, the Letter of James encourages us not to be like people who look in a mirror, but instead to look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, God’s law.

That may seem like it gets us back into the same predicament – considering how often Christians have viewed God’s law as a kind of measuring stick that can be used to beat up on ourselves and others. But God’s law was not intended to be a measuring stick; it was intended to be a gift. Like the rest of what we find in the Bible, God’s law isn’t all about us. It’s about God and how God works with and through people.

When God first gave the law to the Hebrew people, something we heard a bit about in the reading from Deuteronomy today, it was given to remind them that God had chosen them, that they were God’s people. The Hebrew people hadn’t done anything to deserve to be God’s people. They hadn’t cleaned up their act or proven to be better than all the rest of the people out there. God simply said, “I will be your God and you will be my people.” They weren’t a great and powerful nation, they were a small, weak band of nomads. But when God chose them and gave them the law, they were given a new birth and a new identity as God’s people, as people who were blessed to be a blessing for the world. God gave them a law to show them and the world that they were God’s own, that God was so very near to them and that God would lead them into the ways of life.

After years of slavery in Egypt, the law gave them new identity and freedom from oppression. And then 40 years later, after they had refused to trust and follow the law and spent 40 years wandering in the desert, the law was given again to lead them into new life in a new land. God’s law wasn’t intended to be a measuring stick, it was given as a gift to remind the people that God had chosen them, that their identity came from God, that God was with them, and that they were to be a blessing to the world.

God’s law and God’s entire word now does the same thing for us. We were not part of that original bunch of God’s chosen people. But out of God’s original chosen people came Jesus. Jesus, God’s Word made flesh, makes it known that God so loves all people. All of us broken, wandering, sinful, self-righteous people are God’s beloved and chosen people. This Word from God, the word that we are loved and chosen, gives us a new birth and a new identity. We are not just the people we see in the mirror, we are broken and beloved. Our value does not come from comparing ourselves to others. We are God’s good creation as is everyone else.

This word from God is the law of liberty. It sets us free from the despair, anxiety and self-righteousness that can arise when we use ourselves as reference points. It leads us out of slavery to our own judgments of ourselves and others. God’s judgment is what matters and God has looked at the whole world and said, beloved.

This word of God also sets us free from wandering, wandering aimlessly trying to find meaning and purpose. Our purpose, in all that we do, is to live as God’s beloved and to help others know that they are God’s beloved. In the way we speak, in the way we treat others, in the way we respond to those in need we are guided by this law of liberty – that God loves the world and calls us to do the same. As we look into and are shaped by God’s word of liberty and promise, we become not only hearers of the word but doers of the word for the sake of the world God loves.

You are God’s beloved. Reflect that love in all you do.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Rev. Amy Zalk Larson

Click here to read scripture passages for the day.

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace in the name of Jesus.

Our reading from Ephesians today tells us to “stand firm” against the forces of evil. We hear that language, “stand firm”, often these days. We’re asked, where do you stand? What’s your position on the issues of the day? Where do you come down?

We want and need to know where our politicians stand. If we use social media, we can often see where our friends and relatives come down, whether we want to or not. We value standing against injustice, standing up for others, standing strong in the face of challenges. And yet, sometimes all this putting our feet down and standing firm leads to very little movement on the important issues of our day, issues that matter for our lives as Christians.

We divide into camps, along battle lines. We dig in and refuse to budge. We demonize those on the other side of the line. If that strategy doesn’t appeal, then it often seems the only other option is to disengage, check out, and try to avoid conflict. Our Ephesians reading this week has often been used by Christians to demonize others and draw those battle lines.

Since Christianity became the official religion of the empire in the 4^th century, Christians have used the idea of the armor of God and spiritual warfare to justify inter-Christian divisions, crusades, the Inquisition, and witch hunts. With that history and in our current polarized time, it can be tempting to write off this passage. It can feel so outdated and unhelpful.

The letter to the Ephesians certainly was addressed to people in a very different cultural context than our own. It was written to a young, tiny church that was persecuted by the militaristic Roman Empire. Even if those early Christians wanted to use this letter to justify battling enemies, they just didn’t have the power to do so.

I wonder what those Christians in Ephesians thought when they heard this? “You want us to put on helmets, shields and breastplates? Rome will crush us! Do you want to get us killed?” In their world people who wore armor were to be feared and avoided. The church had no political or military power, they were followers of Jesus, the one who’d taught “love your enemies” and “turn the other cheek.” Battle wasn’t an option, so wouldn’t it be best to try to avoid conflict with Rome?

Yet, how amazing it must have been for these persecuted Christians to hear that they did have power. They didn’t have to just avoid conflict, they could engage with the forces and powers bent on destroying them. And they didn’t have to use armor intended for death. They had access to a different kind of armor, a different kind of power.  They could clothe themselves in God’s truth, righteousness, and salvation, and join God’s work of bringing life and peace.

It also reframed the situation so the church could see that those Romans in helmets didn’t have as much power as they claimed – they were just bit players. The larger issue was cosmic powers bent on death and oppression. And even against those very intimidating forces, the church had been given the power to work for truth, faith, and peace. This letter helped those first Christians to see the real struggle more clearly and to recognize that they had much more power than they realized.

I think it can do the same thing for us. We often feel so powerless in the face of all the polarization and violence in our country and the world. We feel stuck between two extremes: putting our feet down and demonizing those on the other side, or trying to avoid conflict. We worry about how to deal with loved ones and neighbors who have opposing viewpoints. We wonder, will there ever be any movement? Or will battle lines harden and those on the sidelines just throw up their hands in despair?

This scripture passage reminds us that the struggle isn’t against other people. Our struggle is against larger forces that seek to dominate, oppress, destroy, divide, polarize, isolate, and lead us to despair. We’re all in the same boat: terrorists, that mean kid at school, your angry uncle, the violent mob, that woman who’s checked out. We’re all influenced by and up against forces that lead to death.

In the time of the early church people understood these forces to be personal or quasi-personal forces battling it out in the sky. Now we name them as systemic forces: ingrained patterns of oppression, injustice, tribalism, nationalism, racism and so on. Yet whatever we call them, we’re aware that there are forces that oppose God’s vision of abundant life for all creation. These forces are within and beyond us. They tempt us to claim we have a corner on God’s truth, to seek power for our own ambitions, to stand our ground in opposition to others, or to seek our own comfort and ignore the rest of the world.

Yet these forces do not have ultimate power. God in Christ has faced the power of death on the cross. For three days it looked as if violence and death were the last things standing. But Jesus rose from the dead. God’s life-giving power overcame death and all that seeks to separate us from God and one another.

And now God, in the risen Christ, freely gives us the resources we need to be part of God’s work in the world. Each new day we are given healing and forgiveness for all the ways we have sinned. We are also given a helpful and life-affirming ground on which to stand: We can stand upon the forgiving, reconciling, and healing work of Jesus. Standing on the good news of Jesus allows us to see all people as God’s beloved children and allows us to root and ground ourselves in the things which lead to life.

God also clothes us in what we need to move toward others in love. We are given shoes that will help us to proclaim the gospel of peace. We are given the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation. These uphold us and protect us so that we don’t need to be afraid of others. We can reach out, take risks, and seek to work with others to- wards God’s truth and righteousness. We are also given the word of God to convict, direct and guide us.

At times these tools will seem insignificant and irrelevant in the face of all the systemic forces of death. I would imagine the early church felt like that sometimes up against the power of Rome.

Yet this good news of Jesus empowered them for lives of great courage and love. They witnessed to the reconciling work of Jesus in so many ways.

And even as the church has often been compromised by systemic forces, for centuries the good news of Jesus has helped people, communities, and sometimes whole nations to rise up and challenge these powers. Death dealing empires, governments, and ideologies have risen and fallen, but the risen Christ abides with and for God’s whole creation. Each new day God clothes us in all that we need to join in God’s life-giving work for all the world.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

Amen.