First Sunday in Lent
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.

My parents had very different views of the wilderness. My dad so enjoyed the Boundary Waters as a teen and young adult. He was thrilled when my sister and I both fell in love with the area. Dad also loved backpacking in the mountains and rejoiced that I spent three summers working at a camp in Colorado.

My mom wasn’t so sure. She wanted to like the wilderness, but she was also a worrier. Whenever one of us would head out on a wilderness adventure, she’d do a ton of research on the dangers we might face. She’d buy safety products, four types of bug spray, and every possible form of sun protection. The sun protection was an especially good idea for her pigment deficient daughters, but we didn’t always appreciate that. Now that I’ve gotten lost out there a few too many times and after the appearance of a skin cancer spot, I can see the wisdom in my mom’s ways. Being in the wilderness makes you quite vulnerable.

Jesus found himself in a very harsh kind of wilderness experience – one that is usually more imposed than chosen, a kind we often do our best to avoid.

Yet, all of us experience harsh wilderness times within our souls – times when we feel vulnerable, exposed, raw, at the mercy of forces beyond our control. Sunblock and bug spray can do nothing to protect against these elements. We also enter collective wilderness seasons, as well – as the climate grows more volatile and the coronavirus spreads, as divisions deepen in our country, as events unfold in Syria and on our southern border.

When our souls feel vulnerable, we’re often tempted by things that give us the illusion of power and control, that offer a false security. In wilderness times, we’re tempted in many of the same ways Jesus was. Perhaps the temptations come from an actual Satan, a tempter. More likely they come from within us, but that’s beside the point.

What matters is that Jesus shows us a different way to be with the wilderness times. When Jesus was vulnerable and famished in the wilderness, he was tempted to choose a quick fix – to just turn stones into bread. All sorts of quick fixes are available to us these days, all manner of instant gratification. And in our vulnerable, wilderness times they can seem even more appealing: buy something, eat something, get away on vacation, try these five simple steps and you’ll feel better. Sign an online petition or post something on Facebook and you’ll change the world.

Our culture trains us to seek immediate solutions, but they are rarely the most helpful response.

They let us skip over the internal work we need to do in the wilderness of our own psyches, wrestling with hard truths, with our own biases and assumptions. Sometimes we need to be uncomfortable so there is more space within us for God to bring change, so that our hunger for God’s word and God’s guidance can grow.

In the wilderness, Jesus rejected the quick fix and instead relied upon God’s word. As he did, his commitment to God’s ways and his trust in God deepened. The same thing can happen for us in wilderness times. Except, notice that even as Jesus trusted God, he also didn’t just take a blind leap of faith. Satan tempted Jesus to just throw himself off a high pinnacle and trust God to catch him. Jesus discerned that this was a test and remembered scripture that says, “Don’t put God to the test.”

We often get the impression that trusting God means turning off our brains, abdicating personal responsibility and putting everything into God’s hands. But God gives us agency and intellect and expects us to use them.

I wonder if we put God to test when we simply pray for healing, peace and justice and then fall back and expect God to fix everything in our lives and our world. Jesus teaches us to pray differently – asking what needs to change within us. He calls us to spend time in the wilderness where we can better listen for what God wants us to do, where we discover how lost we get when we don’t follow in God’s ways. We especially get lost if we seek to use power and control rather than follow God’s way of love. This is a major temptation when we feel vulnerable. We want to go on the attack, stop our opponents, win arguments, prove others wrong – we want to put ourselves above others.

Jesus also faced the temptation when he was in the wilderness. Satan showed him the kingdoms of the world and promised Jesus could rule over them all – if only he made a deal with the devil. Instead of claiming power, Jesus remained faithful to God’s way of being. In him we see that change doesn’t come through power over others, it comes through being vulnerable and practicing love for ourselves and others.

When we find ourselves in wilderness times personally and collectively, it’s so tempting to try to protect ourselves, to try to avoid feelings of vulnerability. Yet the wilderness times can help us hunger for God, listen for God, and be reminded again that God brings change through love.

Wilderness times can be a powerful gift and during the season of Lent, the church intentionally enters the wilderness together. We practice hungering for God’s justice, we increase our times of prayer, and we recommit to following Jesus in acts of mercy and love.

As we face this wilderness together, we can trust that Jesus has gone before us into it and that he is with us in it now. We can also trust that God will minister to us in the wilderness, just as God sent angels to wait upon Jesus in the wilderness. Let’s join in a prayer for our Lenten wilderness written by Jan Richardson:

I am not asking you
to take this wilderness from me,
to remove this place of starkness
where I come to know
the wildness within me,
where I learn to call the names
of the ravenous beasts
that pace inside me,
to finger the brambles
that snake through my veins,
to taste the thirst
that tugs at my tongue.

But send me
tough angels,
sweet wine,
strong bread:
just enough.
Amen

Here we receive what we need for our Lenten wilderness – Christ’s presence here for you, sweet wine, strong bread – just enough, for you.

Ash Wednesday
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. Amen.

Get out there and show ‘em what you’re made of.

I overheard someone say that recently and I immediately thought about Ash Wednesday. (This is one of the occupational hazards of being a preacher.)

Of course, that phrase – show ‘em what you’re made of – is meant to inspire a team or rally the troops. Show ‘em your courage, your strength, your talent – show ‘em you’re made of sterner stuff.

Yet when I heard it, this close to Ash Wednesday, I thought: You mean show ‘em I’m made of dust?

On Ash Wednesday, we’re reminded that we are made of dust. “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” Remember that you are a fragile, frail, mortal and that you will die.

Remember that you are vulnerable, broken and totally dependent on God.

This message probably won’t whip us into a frenzy of athletic prowess. It won’t inspire foot stomping or fist bumps. Yet facing the truth that we are made of dust is actually quite liberating. We are dust. We can let go of all our pretense, all our attempts to spruce ourselves up. We humans spend so much time trying to look like we’ve got it all together. We spend so much energy trying to compensate for what we lack, trying to prove ourselves, trying to hide our vulnerabilities. This wears us out and sucks our souls dry. Yet, facing the truth that we are made of dust is actually quite liberating.

On Ash Wednesday God calls us to stop. Quit trying to cover. Lay down all pretense. Remember, you are dust. And, remember what God can do with dust. Out of the dust, out of the dirt, God formed us and all that exists. We carry within us the dust of the brilliant, distant stars. Dust is fertile ground for God’s work. Dirt is a garden, a sanctuary, for the Holy One to bring life.

The knowledge that we are dust is unsettling and humbling. Yet it is also so very grounding and life-giving. Our lives do not depend upon our own frail courage, strength and talent, on our ability to tidy things up. Our lives depend upon God who brings life from dust, from dirt, from death. Our lives depend upon God who promises to bring new life for you, for me.

The dusty cross that will be placed upon our foreheads tonight makes these promises of God visible.^[1] A cross is first placed upon our foreheads at our baptism along with the proclamation, Child of God, you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. The cross marked on our forehead at baptism says that “every bit of our dust is claimed and loved by God.”

That baptismal cross stays on our dusty bodies forever. We are marked by the promises of God, they “stick to our dust and hold us in hope.” Yet we can’t always see this. We don’t always remember that we are marked by the cross of Christ forever. The dust tonight makes that cross visible. It makes apparent the promises of God that are bound to us. It reveals that God’s promises always stick.

Get out there and show ‘em what you are made of. We are made of dust and the promises of God.

Marked with the cross of Christ, we show the glory of God who brings dust to life.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.
_______

1. Insights from Zeittlow, Amy. Commentary on Ash Wednesday for the Christian Century. All quotes come from this article. https://www.christiancentury.org/article/living-word/february-26-ash-wednesday-matthew-61-6-16-21

Last Sunday after Epiphany – Transfiguration of Our Lord
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Rev. Amy Zalk Larson

Click here to read scripture passage for the day.

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

“You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” Those words from our second reading today captured my imagination this week.

We would do well to be attentive indeed. The author of the reading is saying that we would do well to be attentive to the prophetic message about Jesus. Yet, it struck me that we would do well just to be generally more attentive.

We would do well to be attentive to the colors of our loved ones’ eyes, to the sun sparkling on snow, to the song of chickadees, to the needs of those who face hunger, homelessness and persecution. In paying attention to these things, we pay attention to God. For God’s eye is on the sparrow and God is close to the brokenhearted. An attentive awareness of God’s presence is like a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in our hearts.

We would be well to be attentive. Yet, that’s so hard for us. Often, we can’t pay attention because we’ve got so much to do and we’re getting pulled in too many directions. The tasks run through our brains in a continual anxiety producing loop making it hard to notice the sunset. Other times, our brains just shut down due to information overload.

Some days we want to cover our faces and stop up our ears because things feel so fearful, so heart- breaking that we can’t bear to take it all in. Other days we really want to give the world our full attention, but find ourselves in a fog of sorrow, anger or memory loss.

And then there are times when we’re just mindlessly scrolling through social media or email – sometimes shopping, sometimes reading news – while a show plays in the background, while we pretend to be listening to someone else. This is such a common phenomenon there’s even a name for it – continuous partial attention. Sometimes it’s caused by boredom, sometimes by a fear of missing out; but either way we find ourselves stuck and drained of life.

We would do well to be attentive, but that’s not an easy thing to do. God knows that. So, God goes to great lengths to get our attention, to get through to us. God comes to us in Jesus so that we might know that God loves us and pays attention to us so that we might join God in attending to the beau- ty and the needs of the world. In Jesus, God has gone to great lengths to get through to us. Yet, we still often miss what God is doing in Jesus.

In our Gospel story today, Peter, James and John aren’t really getting it either. They can’t see that Jesus is God with them. They can’t take it all in. So, Jesus takes them up on a mountain where his glory is revealed. He is transfigured before them, his face shines like the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white. This should get through to them, but rather than standing in awe and taking it all in, Peter decides he should do something, even if it’s wrong. He seems to take the approach that if things don’t make sense, it’s better just to keep busy so you don’t really have to deal with it all.

Then God speaks out of a cloud and declares, “This is my son, listen to him!” That should get their attention. Except, it frightens them so much that they fall to the ground, overcome by fear – not exactly the best posture for active listening. I suppose that’s a tension God always has to navigate – how to get through to us without completely overwhelming us.

Finally, Jesus comes to the disciples, touches them and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.” “Get up,” he says, yet what he’s saying is not just get off the ground. The Greek verb here is the same word the angel uses to tell the women at the empty tomb that Jesus has been resurrected, “He has been raised!” the angel says. So, what Jesus actually says to the disciples on the mountain is more like, “arise”, “be raised up”, or even “be resurrected.” When the disciples are overwhelmed by God’s voice, when they are cowering on the ground in fear, Jesus touches them and resurrects them.

He raises them into new life, new awareness, new attentive participation in what God is doing in the world. He assures them they do not need to be afraid, he is with them.

These words – “arise” and “do not be afraid”- are repeated throughout scripture to God’s people who are lost, inattentive, overwhelmed and fearful. They were spoken to the disciples long ago and they are spoken now today to us. God speaks to us through holy scripture in a manner that’s a little less scary than a voice from a cloud to say, “Do not be afraid.”

And, Jesus comes to us in holy communion. As we meet him in his body and blood, he touches us and resurrects us. He raises us up from our fears, anxieties, inattentiveness – from all that drains away our life and keeps us stuck. He empowers us to attend to the needs and the beauty of this world.

“Arise, do not be afraid.” We would do well to be attentive to this message. It is a lamp shining in a dark place until the day dawns and the morning star rises in our hearts.

“Arise, do not be afraid.” Jesus is here to help us receive that message.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.