Second Sunday after Pentecost – Commemoration of the Emanuel Nine, Martyrs, 2015
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.

This Gospel reading reminds me, once again, that Jesus is not so interested in being nice. I grew up in a suburb of Minneapolis where “Minnesota Nice” is highly valued. I’ve lived almost my whole life in the Upper Midwest and have learned well how to be polite and appealing. I work hard not to

offend. Sometimes I take this a bit too far. The other day I was biking on the Dug Road Trail and   called out to a man walking ahead of me, “on your left”; but my voice was too sweet and too quiet. He couldn’t hear me over his headphones. By the time I realized he hadn’t heard me, I’d almost crashed into him. Sometimes ‘nice’ isn’t so helpful!

Jesus is not so concerned with being nice. In our Gospel reading today, we’re told Jesus has com- passion when he sees people who are harassed and helpless – a better translation is those who are oppressed and put down – but his compassion isn’t sweet niceness. The word used to describe compassion is connected to the Greek word for bowels – meaning Jesus is moved deep within and feels the pain of others right in his gut.

Jesus’ compassion also leads to action – he sets about the work of healing people and setting them free. He proclaims the good news that God’s kingdom has come near. He cures sickness and frees people from the power of unclean spirits. Then Jesus sends his disciples to do the same. They’re told: “Proclaim the good news … cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.”

Jesus is about healing and setting people free from all that binds, all that oppresses. This is com- passionate work. It’s also pretty disruptive.

Jesus makes this clear as he sends his disciples out. He warns them that enacting his compassion in the world will sometimes lead to persecution and turmoil. It will upend the status quo. Yet sometimes we need to be disrupted in order to be healed and set free. And, this is Jesus’ desire for us – healing and liberation. Jesus doesn’t seem too interested in whether we feel comfortable. He doesn’t seem to worry much about whether we are offended. When we’re walking with head- phones turned up loud to shut out the noise of the world, Jesus isn’t afraid to raise his voice to get our attention, to get through to us.

Sometimes we need to be disrupted in order to be healed and set free. Right now, white Americans are being disrupted. I so hope this disruption leads to our healing and liberation. May it be so, O God. We are being disrupted and asked to come to terms with the systemic racism and white supremacy that is harming our siblings of color, our nation and each one of us.

It’s hard for us to hear that we need to be healed of racism and white supremacy. We get offended to think we’re being called racist. And certainly, we aren’t like those white supremacists. We’re tempted to defend ourselves and blame this situation on bad actors, criminals, law enforcement, extremists, anyone else. We can’t be racist. We are good people.

Yet that implies that whites can be morally superior and somehow remain pure – unimpacted by the racism that has shaped our country since its founding. We who are white Americans are shaped by this racism; we cannot not be shaped by it. We cannot remain above it somehow.

Like sin in general, racism is not so much about specific actions. Sin is all that separates us from God, others and creation. When Christians talk about sin, we aren’t talking about all the bad things that we do. We’re talking about the brokenness that prevents us from being in a right relationship with God, neighbor and creation – all that holds us captive.

This is the case with the particular sin of racism as well. Racism isn’t about whether we do good or bad things – it’s about all that prevents us from being in mutual relationship with our siblings of color.

Racism leads us to fear those with darker skin, and so sanction strategies and policies that harm them in the name of our security.

Racism robs us of our empathy. We can’t simply lament the harm done to black and brown bodies, instead we try to justify it or blame the victim. We aren’t moved with compassion the way Jesus was, the way he wants us to be. Racism leads us to expect people of color to act and talk and think like us, and prevents us from experiencing the rich abundance of gifts of our siblings of color. It prevents us from receiving their perspectives and insights that can help to heal our communities and nation.

ELCA member Shari Seifert also writes that “White supremacy tells us that we have a right to comfort in church. What? Jesus was about flipping power structures, lifting up the lowly – he was executed by the state … Jesus was intensely political. But we want the church to ‘not be political’.  We want the church to be comfortable. We think talking about race is racist. We wonder if we could just use some words other than ‘white supremacy’, which after all isn’t really that big of a problem. So, without thinking about it, we have created the equation that white comfort is more important than black lives.”^[1]

The way the ELCA has prioritized niceness and comfort has had real consequences. One of the most tragic examples of this is in the story of the Emanuel Nine who we remember today. They were killed by Dylann Roof, a young man who was raised and confirmed in an ELCA congregation. He drew pictures of a white Jesus in his journal in prison.

As ELCA leader Elle Dowd points out, “The church Roof grew up in was full of good and faithful people … many there are horrified about what he did. Our church may not have taught him white supremacy directly, but like many of our churches and beloved institutions, it did not do enough to teach him to resist it. His formation within the ELCA was not enough to teach him to recognize the image of God in the people who would become his victims.”^[2]

 Beloved of God,
We are captive to racism and white supremacy.
Jesus sees this; Jesus has compassion for us.
Jesus comes near to disrupt us, heal us and set us free.
He sends us out to do his active work of healing and liberation in the world.
But this work must be grounded always in repentance.

To repent is not about feeling bad for specific things.
It is about naming that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves.
It is about turning to God who heals and frees us – to repent means to turn.
It is about asking God to uphold us by the Spirit so that we can live and serve in newness of life.

Let us join in this repentance now.

^[1] https://blogs.elca.org/elcaracialjustice/?p=285

^[2] https://blogs.elca.org/elcaracialjustice/?p=283

Offered to Congregations by ELCA Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton

 The holy gospel according to St. Matthew, the 28th chapter.

Glory to you, O Lord.

¹⁶ Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee,

¹⁷ When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him; but some doubted.

¹⁸ And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.

¹⁹ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,

²⁰ and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

The gospel of the Lord.

Praise to you, O Christ.

Well, a lot has changed since last Trinity Sunday, not just the COVID-19 pandemic under which we live. But also, the killing of George Floyd, an unarmed, handcuffed black man by a white po- lice officer in Minneapolis. Just a few weeks ago, we learned, many of us, of the shooting of Ahmaud Arbery, but since that time, Breonna Taylor, Dreasjon “Sean” Reed, Tony McDade have also been killed. And how many others whose names are known only to their families and to God?

Today is Trinity Sunday. It’s a hard holiday for us to wrap our minds around, it’s a difficult concept. But, we learn about the Trinity, particularly in today’s first lesson from Genesis. In this beautiful song of creation, we hear, “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep. And a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.”

God said and creation began. Martin Luther put it this way, “So also the Christian Church agrees that in this description there is indicated the mystery of the Holy Trinity, Father created through the Son who Moses called Word, and over this creative work brooded the Holy Spirit. Later, God says, “Let us make humankind in our image.” This is the glorious relationship with God that spills out into all creation. God is not a lone ranger. And all of God shows up, all of God shows up, delighting in creation, caring for creation, weeping for creation, redeeming creation.

I confess that I do not fully understand or even have language to describe the mystery of the Trinity, probably won’t until I finished my baptismal vocation and stand in the presence of God. I can’t explain how, but I can testify to the great Lutheran question, what does this mean?

God is relationship. Within God and flowing from God. Creation is God’s decision not to look after God’s self but focuses God’s energies on creation. This Trinity, this God, this relationship is outward and overflowing. God is the one who does not grasp.

As we hear in Philippians, “Let this same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as a thing to be grasped. Likewise, the Spirit is poured out on us all. Again, what does this mean? God is relationship. Within God, with the creation, with humankind and among humankind. And since we are baptized into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, baptized into the Trinity.

We are also part of this powerful, dynamic, living, giving, loving relationship, with God, in God, with creation, with each other. We are inextricably woven together. No one is alone. No one is beyond the fierce, tender love of God and God is not far off. God is present in creation, in each of us and in all of us. God is flesh and blood made visible in Jesus of Nazareth and in every human being.

God is spirit, closer than our own breath. And this is how God as Trinity shows up today. God is creator. God created diversity, beautiful, vital, alive. We must reject calls for colorblindness. That diminishes and washes out God’s gift of diversity. We in the white majority can begin to see our siblings of color more clearly. We should be color amazed, recognizing the strength that comes with all our many colors and God as creator made all of us in God’s image. “Let us make them in our image” that means all of us are a part of this relational triune God who did create all of humankind, each and every one and all of us together, in God’s image, all. And God is the word made flesh. Our flesh, your flesh, my flesh, George Floyd’s flesh.

Jesus in his passion still suffers with those who suffer. The crucifixion of an unarmed, hand- cuffed man lying face down on the street is the crucifixion and the passion of our Lord. The crucifixion of so many, too many, black and brown people, who live constantly with the violence of racism, is the passion of our Lord.

And God is spirit. The wind, the breath that moved over the face of the deep at creation, the breath of God that was breathed into the first earth creature, Adam. The breath of Jesus as he gave them the gift of the Spirit, the breath crushed out of George Floyd, the breath of life God had given to him. And now, church, we as the baptized, those of us baptized into the Trinity, show up.

We work for an end to violence, the violence of racism that kills bodies and maims souls. And we work for the end of violence brought about by lawlessness and also frustration, masquerading in some cases, as protest.

In the fierce love of the Trinity, we do not deny anger. In the face of the reality and inequity of racial injustice, anger is appropriate, is appropriate. But we use our anger to bring about change. We put out fires at the stores, workplaces, churches and property but we ask the Spirit kindle in us the fire of justice.

We work for calm and quiet throughout our country, but we remain disquieted as we search deep within ourselves. We work for peace, but not the passive peace that allows the mechanisms of racism and white supremacy to stay in place. No, it’s the peace God alone can give that gives us the strength and courage to act. The Trinity is a relationship, within God, with creation, with us and among us. Until the white majority feels in our soul that the pain and suffering of black and brown people is our own pain and suffering, it will not be safe to be black or brown in America. And until we feel in our own soul that this is our pain in our story, we are not open to the relationship that God wants to shower, share, lavish upon us as a relational God, a loving God, as a God of the Trinity, as a God who has brought us into that relationship and commands us to share that relationship and live that relationship with creation and with each other.

Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians ends, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all ” It’s actually a promise and I think marching orders for us. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is with us, the love of God is with us, the communion of the Holy Spirit is with us and, together in the communion and community of the Holy Trinity, we can make that a reality.

Amen.

The Day of 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 Day of Pentecost is normally a joyous celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit shows up in all sorts of ways in our scripture readings today, most dramatically in the rush of a violent wind and tongues of fire. The beautiful stole and paraments at Good Shepherd and these red flowers evoke that fire of the Holy Spirit. Today we’re also told that Spirit animates the body of Christ, that God sends forth the Spirit to give breath to all creation, and that Jesus breathes out the Holy Spirit upon us.

The Pentecost scriptures are full of such powerful images and sounds of fire, body, and breath. Yet, this Pentecost they feel quite jarring amidst the images and sounds of fire, bodies and breath from Minneapolis and St. Paul: a police officer with his knee on George Floyd’s neck for so many long minutes as George pleads “please, please, please I can’t breathe”; cities on fire; bodies crying out for justice; the sounds of tear gas and violence in the streets. And all of this under the shadow of COVID-19 when so many are gasping for breath.

This Pentecost I don’t feel joyful. I feel afraid: afraid for people of color who, on a daily basis, know so much more fear for their lives and their children than I will ever experience; afraid for law enforcement officers – those I know and love and so many more – who serve others in this country that is so shaped by racism and violence; afraid for my hometowns of Minneapolis and St. Paul and for my family and friends, for you and your loved ones who live there. That fear, these images and sounds have brought me to tears often this week.

In the midst of this, I’m grateful that this week I have also been reminded of an invitation to pray with the news, offered by Good Shepherd member Jane Jakoubek. This past Wednesday I shared that practice during Holden Evening Prayer. Each week I’m offering an invitation to a prayer practice that you can use at home and this time it was Jane’s practice of praying with the news. This practice was so helpful to me this week as the news got more and more painful. I’ll give a quick summary here and you can find more under the Worship Tab of the website on the Prayer Practices and Reflections page.

• Jane encourages us to pray before, during and after we engage with the news.
• Before we begin, we can ask God to help us see each news item through the lens of faith, hope, and love, to suspend judgement and stay open.
• During the news, we can cry out “Lord have mercy” and give thanks for signs of God’s presence.
• After the news, we can pray with the feelings the news has evoked after we engage it.
• Jane also asks us to commit to praying for one of the stories from the news throughout the days to come and to ask what God is calling us to do in response to it.

These practices have helped me to remain present to the story of George Floyd’s death and the protests following it. As I’ve prayed with this story, I’ve sensed God calling me to pay attention to the pain of people of color, to my siblings in our human family who have been so oppressed by centuries of racism, white privilege and white supremacy. It is hard to stay with pain. I want to look away. I feel overwhelmed and hopeless by it all. It is easier to turn to anger and judgement. I’m tempted to take a stand about the issues on Facebook and then think I’ve done my part. Yet, I sense God is calling me and calling us to stay with the pain. We need to see and hear and pay attention to the pain.

I am concerned that in this time of COVID-19 we are not paying enough attention to the pain in our world. We are turning to outrage and fear instead. Partly, that’s because physical distancing is impacting our patterns for dealing with grief. We can’t gather for funerals and memorials. We can’t physically sit with and embrace those outside our households. Partly, it’s because of a cultural dis- comfort with grief and pain. Americans much prefer being positive and upbeat. Yet, if we don’t tend to our grief it will come out sideways as anger and judgement and stridency. Healing and love are released as we pay attention to the pain. God enters into the pain of our world in Jesus and calls us to do the same. We especially need to pay attention to the pain of those who are black and brown who are being disproportionately impacted by COVID-19. And we need to listen very close- ly to the pain of these siblings who are not safe in the United States.

One of those voices is that of black preacher, the Rev. Dr. Ron Bell Jr, Lead Pastor of Camphor Memorial United Methodist Church in St. Paul. I want you to hear his voice today. Dr. Bell shared this powerful post early Friday morning before the police officer was arrested. He writes,^[1]

“My city is burning, but not in the way the media is showing. Did you see the fire, not the one burning down the precinct but the one burning in the hearts of the wounded in my community? The grieving mothers and grandmothers recalling the voice of our dear brother George Floyd as he called for his mother while taking his last breath. The burning of the hearts of we who wept when our governmental leaders refused to arrest the murderer of this wicked and inhumane deed. Did you see that fire?

Did you see the shattered glass, not those easily replaceable windows scattered in pieces on the ground under our feet? Instead, the shattered glass of expectation for justice, the shattered glass of respect for our humanity that our murderers continue to display, the shattered glass of hope as we watched our brother’s body lay lifeless under the knee of his murderer. Did you see that glass shatter?

You must have witnessed the looting? Not the ones the cameras and social media love to exploit, but instead the looting of our human rights. The looting of our constitutional rights as citizens. The looting of our communities for decades by corporations for greed. Did you see that looting?

I think you were so busy looking for a riot that you missed the gathering of the grieving. I think you were so busy looking for looters that you missed the lament and heartbreak of a community. I think you were so busy looking for trouble that you missed the tragedy of systemic racialized trauma on the bodies of black and brown people. Tonight, tomorrow, and even the next day I beg of you, look again. Look again.

I do not have a scripture for you. I do not have a perfectly curated historical epitaph from a giant like King to impress you with. Instead, I have a request for you. Look again. See the trauma and pain of my community. See the anger and anxiety. See the tiredness. Look again.

Once you have really looked upon our sorrow, once you have put away your hashtags, retweets and emojis, once you have set with the weight of our sorrow what you will discover is my city has be- come your city. My pain has become your pain. That young person protesting has become your young person grieving … Do not look away. For then and only then will you be truly with us! Look again.”

Beloved of God, we need to see this pain and hear it. We need to stay with it. We need to pray with it. We need to pay attention to the images and sounds of fire, body and breath that come to us to- day from both Minneapolis and from scripture. We need to ask God what these images and sounds have to say to our lives.

What in our lives, personally and collectively, needs to be burned away? What patterns of anger, judgement, fear and privilege are preventing us from seeing, honoring, and being with black and brown bodies and from celebrating the dignity of these beloved children of God?

How will we honor God’s Spirit that breathes out life for all people and all creation and honor the breath of all people?

How can we see and respond to racial injustice in Decorah, in our own communities, within the ELCA?

How can we who have privilege use it to amplify the voices of our siblings of color and join them in advocating for racial justice?

How will we live as the body of Christ bearing witness to that Spirit of love at work in the world?

We need to pray. We need to see. We need to listen. And we need to keep doing this long after the cameras have left Minneapolis and St. Paul.

Please pray and join me in discerning and acting together as a community. As we do this, we can trust that the Holy Spirit is at work in our world to renew the face of the earth. The fire of the Holy Spirit is at work to get our attention and trouble us and empower us to work for the healing of all creation.

The Holy Spirit that Jesus breathes upon us is at work.

The Holy Spirit is at work for you, for the body of Christ, and for all bodies.

Let us look, listen, pray and join the work of the Spirit.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

^[1]https://www.drronbell.com/post/do-not-look-away?fbclid=IwAR0GYgZLMtfrnz-FFSNnSQk2M8k4qpcALjJOuIqCbqaPV9YTq-Ef-TpRpwk