Reverend Amy Zalk Larson
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa

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

When a loved one dies, it’s so hard to hear others refer to them in the past tense. As people say all sorts of kind things – “She was so generous”, “She was really funny” – it hits you again. “She was” means she is no longer alive.

It’s also hard to know which tense you want to use when referring to a loved one. After the death of a spouse do you say, “Today is our wedding anniversary,” or “Today would have been our wedding anniversary? Do you say, “We have three children,” or “We had three children and our son died ten years ago?” Referring to our loved ones in the past tense can be so painful. We want them to be present in our lives, and we want our speech to reflect that.

Jesus says that God uses the present tense when speaking to Moses about his ancestors who have died. In the story Jesus is referencing, God says to Moses, “I AM the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” God doesn’t say, “I once was the God of your ancestors back when they were alive and I remember them well,” but rather, “I AM the God of your ancestors.” Jesus says God doesn’t have to use the past tense for those who have died for they are alive to God. The dead are raised and live now as children of God, children of the resurrection.

Jesus’ words here raise many questions and don’t offer any easy answers. Instead, they evoke a beautiful mystery beyond our comprehension. Those who have died do not only inhabit the past. They live now in the presence of God, in the heart of God. This is not because they are so worthy, but because they are considered worthy through the love and faith and action of Christ Jesus. Because of Christ, we all have a place in the resurrection, a place in God’s life, now and always. This means we can still think of our relationships with our departed loved ones in the present and future tenses. All of us are now held in God’s heart; so in some way, we are still together. And we will be together in God in the age to come.

The end of life here is not the end of love, connection, intimacy with God and one another. We still have a future together. The good news is that this future is not just a continuation of life here on earth with all its sin, sorrow, and brokenness. As Jesus says, those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage, but in the age to come everything will be different. Our relationships and all aspects of our life together will be transformed. We will know new ways of being in relationship, new ways of being togeth- er with all the children of God.

For instance, in the age to come, women won’t be the property of men as they were in Jesus’ day. So, no one will need to wonder what will happen to a woman who had many husbands and no children. Who gets to claim her in the resurrection? Only our loving God! She, and all those who’ve suffered oppression, will finally share in the fullness of life that God longs for them to know. All the other things that mar relationships here -abuse, scorn, contempt, addiction, absence, isolation – will be healed and transformed. We will all share in such fullness of life, together in the heart of God.

This is God’s intention for all creation: wholeness, communion, the healing of all divisions in the presence of God. This is God’s future, this is our future. Yet that can seem so remote right now. Sin and rupture and death seem so powerful, so forceful, so ever present. That’s why All Saints Sunday is such a gift. In many ways, it’s a thin place. Celtic Christians use the term “thin place” to describe places and times where the boundary between heaven and earth feels more permeable, when we experience God more fully.

On All Saints Sunday we get a foretaste of God’s promised future. We also enter the thin and mysterious space between life and death, between what is and what is yet to come.
We get to linger in the mystery: As we honor our grief while we practice hope; and as we experience the presence of the whole communion of saints, that great cloud of witnesses from every time and place who surround us always.

As names are read, candles lit, bells tolled, we have sensory experiences with these saints who have gone before. Throughout worship, we see the lights of these people shining around us. As we prepare to receive communion, we sing the song that saints are always singing in God’s presence when we sing Holy, Holy, Holy God. As we sing, somehow our voices are united with the church on earth, the choirs of angels and all the hosts of heaven; we join in their unending hymn. Then, we gather at the communion rail, on our half of the circle. And somehow, in a beautiful mystery, the healed, resurrected saints who have gone before us fill in the other half of the circle.

Whenever we gather for worship, we get a glimpse of this mystery, of this communion we share; but on All Saints Sunday it is even more pronounced. So, linger here beloved saints of God. Experience the good news that God’s promised future is breaking into our world even now.

Death does not win, those who have died live still in God. We are still with them, even now; we still have a future together. Sin will not define us; all our relationships will be healed and transformed. Sorrow does not have the last word, love will prevail.

Here and now, in the present tense, God is working to let us experience this so that our living now will be changed, so that our world now will be changed.

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church   

 Decorah, Iowa

Click here to read scripture passages for the day.

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

Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus, but the crowd got in the way. What gets in the way for you? What prevents you from seeing the love and presence of God made known in Jesus?

Over the years and in the faith statements they wrote this fall, our confirmands identified things that can get in the way for so many of us: anxiety, busyness, arguments about scripture and God, not being able to physically see God, questions, fears. What gets in your way? Zacchaeus climbed a tree to see Jesus. What helps you to see Jesus, to recognize that God is at work in the world?

Interestingly, the very questions and concerns that are sometimes obstacles, can also help us to see more clearly. They can be the tree that gives us a fuller picture of Jesus. This has happened  for the four of you. You’ve asked big things in class and in your faith statements: How do we know God is real? How do I know God is listening? What does God actually do? Am I enough? Is God there even when I can’t see God, even when I don’t feel close to God, like I do at camp, or when I’m singing?

As you’ve paid attention to these questions, you’ve experienced God in so many ways. Now you’re able to make these beautiful affirmations that come directly from your faith statements: I believe God will always be there for me and love me through everything; I love God because he’s always there for me and I can trust him never to leave; I’ve been a witness to God’s actions and endeavors; There are so many things I am thankful for, and I have God to thank for them.

Sometimes we’re told we shouldn’t doubt, shouldn’t struggle with faith and life; or, if we do, that we should keep it quiet. We should look like we have it all figured out, that we’ve got it all together. Zacchaeus didn’t look like that, though, as he raced to see Jesus. Men in his time didn’t run in public. They definitely didn’t climb trees. They were supposed to look dignified and competent and stay firmly on the ground. But Zacchaeus didn’t let that stop him from scurrying ahead of the crowd and scrambling up a tree.

I hope you always do the things that help you to know and love Jesus, even if that means you’re out of step with the crowd. I hope you know that questions and struggles don’t mean you’re doing things wrong. Instead, those are the parts of life that often open us to God’s love and presence even more. I also hope you keep noticing how and where you experience God and keep sharing that. Your witness helps us all to pay attention to where we experience God, to how Jesus is still at work in our world.

Like Zacchaeus, you’ve experienced God in the trees, in nature at Camp Ewalu, as you run the cross-country trails, as you spend time enjoying God’s creation. You’ve also seen God through other people. You say: One thing I love about God is how there are always other people around for me to engage with and love God with; I feel God’s energy among all the nice, faithful people of the church; I see God in church in all the friendliness of God’s people as they care for each other and are bound together by something bigger than themselves. You’ve experienced God as your parents have marked you with the cross of Christ each night before bed and in the love of your extended family. You’ve also experienced Jesus’ presence by serving others. You describe sharing your gifts in church choir and in packing food for hungry kids, caring for people on your cross-country team, helping others at camp and at school, using your gifts to be courageous and help others on the journey that is life.

I hope you keep running, climbing trees, asking questions, and noticing Jesus’ presence and love. I hope you keep using your gifts to serve others. But no matter what you do or don’t do, remember that you are God’s beloved child, always. Nothing can change that. 

As it was for Zacchaeus, it is for us all. Zacchaeus had done some bad things; like all of us, he was a sinner. Zacchaeus did some admirable things too. He went out on a limb to see Jesus and promised to make amends for his sins. But none of that is what mattered most to Jesus. What mattered to Jesus is that Zacchaeus was a son of Abraham, a beloved child of God. Nothing he did or didn’t do could ever change that. When Jesus saw Zacchaeus up in that tree, he called him by name and let Zacchaeus know I want to be with you, I want to share a meal with you. You are loved. You are saved. You are found. 

Keaton, Oliver, Abby and Mikayla, all of you here today, you are God’s beloved child. God announced this when you were baptized. God spoke through the church to call you by name and declare that you are saved, loved, freed from sin, found, that you are God’s beloved. God reminds you of this good news over and over in words of love and promise for you, in a meal, in other people. Jesus has got a hold of you and will not let you go, no matter what. You belong to God. 

You are part of God’s people.

You can face all the questions and struggles of this world knowing you are not alone. You can love because you are so loved.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church   

 Decorah, Iowa

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

Some parts of scripture seem remote from our lives. Lepers, pigs possessed by demons, and even shepherds aren’t part of our normal daily routine. But this story today hits awfully close to home. Jesus told them a parable about the dangers of self-righteousness and regarding others with con- tempt. Ouch. Thanksgiving dinner survival guides are now a thing, sold in stores and online. We   know a bit about contempt.  

The Pharisee prays, “Thank God I’m not like those people.” How often do our thoughts or conversations sound like that? Thank God I’m not an extremist like her, a selfish billionaire like him, as dangerous to our economy, to American democracy, as they are. Get a load of that! Can you BELIEVE this guy?!? Want to know what’s wrong with the world?  It’s those people. Thank GOD

I’m not like them.

That kind of stuff poisons families, congregations, and democracies. Renowned researchers of healthy relationships, Drs. Julie and John Gottman, and their Gottman Institute, have identified contempt as a key sign that a relationship is in serious trouble. But what can we do about it?

What hope is there for change?

Jesus points us to a tax collector who pleads with God for mercy. This man knows his need and asks for help in a humble way. Interestingly, the Gottman Institute has identified that as an important way to address the contempt that arises within us. Expressing our needs and our longings can bring healing. I know that sounds strange when public life is contemptuous, but stay with me. This idea is most clearly articulated by Gottman Therapist Ken Fremont-Smith. I’ll share a link to his guidance with the sermon online. I’m also available as a support for you and your relationships. (“How to Change Your Own Contempt”, by Ken Fremont-Smith on the Gottman Institute Blog.)

First, Fremont-Smith says we need to understand why we act with contempt. He says, “Contempt is not a sign of sadism or wickedness on the part of the person throwing [it]. Rather, what drives contempt is desperation. You express contempt … because you believe you are being disrespect- ed and that you need to defend yourself.” Many of us these days feel disrespected and threatened by the world, by others. So, we respond with contempt. I think that may also be what’s happening for the Pharisee in our parable today.

The Pharisees and all the Jewish people were mightily threatened by the Roman occupiers and the tax collectors who worked for them. Rome ruled them with an iron fist. Romans lived in a way that make the Kardashians look morally upright. Tax collectors were active collaborators with an occupying force. They volunteered to work for the Romans because they could make a lot of money doing so. And they would collect more than what was owed to Rome and keep the difference. So, it’s understandable that this Pharisee felt contempt about the tax collector and the Roman adulterers, thieves, and rogues that threatened his community. And yet, contempt didn’t help him to live in right relationship with God and others. It didn’t make things better.

And contempt doesn’t help us. We want to be standing up for ourselves and for those who are vulnerable, but we end up just standing against others. We sound a lot like those we think are the problem. We act in ways that don’t align with how we want to behave, with how God wants us to live. So, what do we do with this fear and anger to avoid being contemptuous?

The Gottman Institute has a ton of research showing that expressing our feelings and longings provides a way out. He says, “People doing contempt think that they are expressing emotions—but they aren’t. They are certainly feeling emotions, but contempt is expressing judgments, which others resent. So, the key antidote to contempt is expressing your feelings and longings—and ex- pressing them well. Fremont-Smith gives examples of what this looks like in close relationships.

Rather than saying, “What on earth is wrong with you, driving like a maniac! Why can’t you be responsible—like me?!” You could say, “When you drive like that, I get scared! I worry we’ll have an accident, even though I know you’re an alert driver. Can we talk about what’s going on?” 

Rather than,“Really? You ‘forgot’ to let me know you had a conflict with that event? As if. I never do this to you …” You could say, “Hey, I can forget things myself – sometimes even important things! But this hurt! I felt embarrassed being there by myself. I really want an apology!”

Instead of lashing out at another, you are expressing how you feel, how you hope for things to be different. Of course, it’s hard to do that with more than a few close family members and friends.

But identifying our longings and expressing them well seems important for life in the public sphere. If we share what we hope for, what we long for in our life together, that is much more effective than focusing on what others are doing wrong. We can stand up for what’s important without having to stand against others.

We can also bring our feelings and longings to God in prayer as the tax collector in today’s par- able does. Like him, we really need help. We feel threatened and afraid, and we aren’t helping matters. We need to come to God to say, have mercy on us, heal us. Bring our lives into alignment with your ways, your wisdom. Turn us from anger and contempt, turn us to you and to your ways of life. Beloved, we can do this because God hears our prayers for help, because Jesus draws us in- to true righteousness – right relationship with God and others

Our life, our hope, our well-being comes from God, not from being right or convincing others of our point of view. Healing in our communities and country isn’t dependent upon people agreeing with us. Rather, God is working to bring about the kingdom in which all experience harmony and well-being. We participate in that by longing for it, praying for it, and standing for it. We can let go of self-righteousness and contempt and join God in imagining and working for a different world.

You are held in God.      You are beloved.      You can live with love and hope.

Amen.

How To Change Your Own Contempt

Research FAQ

Pastor Stacey Nalean-Carlson – Good Shepherd Lutheran Church – Decorah, Iowa

Every night, Brian Wallach sends a few words of persistent hope into the world through his Twitter account. One week ago, he wrote: In 11 hours I turn 42. Not today ALS. Definitely not today. 

Brian is the epitome of turning your pain into your purpose. On the website dedicated to his film project, “No Ordinary Campaign”, the film is described as a feature documentary about action born from hope. It is presented with this introduction: At 37, Brian Wallach was diagnosed with ALS—on the same day he and his wife Sandra brought their youngest daughter home from the hospital. A broken system offered no hope for a cure. So, Brian and Sandra have set out to forge their own path. This is a documentary unfolding in real-time as one couple fights for their own future while seeking to build a brighter one for thousands of others. 

How do we respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? 

In Uvalde, Texas, Brett Cross camped outside the school district offices for 10 days, often joined by other Uvalde families, calling for justice. Cross was quoted as saying, “I am asking … get these officers off of these campuses until it is proved whether or not they were justified in sitting outside of the classroom for 77 minutes.” One writer described the sit-out with these words: “Uvalde families have exemplified the power of activism, unity and tenacity as their protest has led to the suspension of the Uvalde school district police force.” One day after the sit-out ended, Cross persisted in working for justice, working at an event in the Uvalde Square getting folks registered to vote. 

How do we respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? 

We don’t know the details of the unnamed widow’s case in the parable Jesus tells. The parable itself is limited to four sparse verses. We don’t know who her opponent is. We don’t know what the justice she’s persistently pleading for looks like. We might think we know something about her, given that she is a biblical widow, but to describe her as powerless, destitute, without connection or support in the community would be to stereotype her. And, as the parable demonstrates, this widow, this woman, is indeed powerful. 

The English translation obscures the literal meaning when it translates the judge’s words as I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming. The words translated as wear me out are more of a boxing term. I will grant her justice, so that she may not jab me repeatedly in the eye. Far from being powerless, the widow is a threat to the judge. And in the end, she changes him. Though he has no respect for people and doesn’t even fear God, the judge responds to the widow’s powerful persistence and grants her justice.

How do we respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? 

The gospel writer wraps this messy parable up in a tidy package, explaining its meaning to us before Jesus even starts speaking: Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray al- ways and not to lose heart.

Is it really that simple? 

What happens when we pray always, crying out to God day and night, and God doesn’t answer? Is not losing heart a matter of willpower? If we just try hard enough can we prevent giving our- selves over to despair? I don’t know about you, but that’s certainly not my experience. And that’s why I love our first reading for this day so much.

Jacob is a mess. He stole his brother’s birthright and fled. Taken in by his uncle Laban, the tables are turned and Jacob becomes the victim of his uncle’s scheming. Now, twenty-some years later, Jacob’s about to meet his brother Esau again, the one he has so terribly wronged. And he is right- fully scared. How will Esau respond to Jacob’s homecoming?

The wrestling that I have to believe was taking place inside Jacob’s mind becomes an embodied experience on the banks of the Jabbok. Through the night, Jacob wrestles with what turns out to be the very presence of God. Jacob doesn’t let go of God. And God doesn’t let go of him. They wrestle through the night; they wrestle for as long as it takes; they wrestle until daybreak. And Jacob is wounded in that wrestling. That limp will be with him the rest of his days. But he is also blessed in that wrestling. Indeed, Jacob demands a blessing from God.

I will never forget working with a group of confirmation students as they re-enacted this scene. The student playing the part of Jacob really embraced his role. When the time came, he cried out with the loudest, most sincere, knowing-in-his-own-experience-the-pain-of-Jacob voice—Give me a blessing! It was a demand born of grief and pain, but even more so … born of hope. 

Though we are wrestling, God is still here. I am not alone. I am not abandoned to my own worst self. There is still hope. I can’t see it now, but I still long to see it. God is faithful, even to me. Even in the midst of this mess. Even in the face of such profound sorrow. Even though I’ve been changed, I’ve been wounded, I’ll be limping for the rest of my life. God, give me a blessing!

And God gives Jacob a blessing, changing his name to Israel which means, He struggles with God. This is our heritage. And in some strange and wondrous way, this is our blessing. We struggle with God. Wrestling with God is not only acceptable, it is core to who we are. 

How do we respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? We wrestle with God. We express our anger, our lament, our bone-deep weariness. We express our fear that change will never come. We look to God through our rage and our tears, and cry out to God to bless this world God so loves. Give us a blessing!

How does God respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? The Word became flesh and dwelled among us. Jesus moved into the neighborhood. He was lauded and rejected. He was seen as a savior and as a threat. He wrestled with God on the night in which he was betrayed. He prayed, Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me, yet not my will but yours be done. 

This is the one in whose name we pray. This is the one who knows firsthand our sorrows and our suffering. This is the one who wrestled through the night to bless the whole world. And when daybreak came, his grave was empty and death, in every vile form it takes, was defeated forever.

Not today ALS. Not today gun violence. Not today systemic racism. Not today political corruption. Not today COVID. Not today hate. Not today death. Not today.

How does God respond when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? The Lord will preserve you from all evil and will keep your life. 

How do we respond, held in this promise, when a broken system offers no hope for a cure? Not by our own willpower, but by the power of the Holy Spirit, we persist.

United with Christ in the waters of baptism, fed and strengthened for the journey at his table, we join Jesus in wrestling out of death a blessing of abundant life for the world.

Rev. Amy Zalk Larson- Good Shepherd Lutheran Church    Decorah, Iowa

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

I have a lot of compassion for the disciples in our Gospel reading today. They’ve been asked to do incredibly hard things and they’re intimidated. Jesus wants them to hold others accountable and then forgive when others repent, even if the same person sins against them seven times in one day. That’s a lot. That’s hard. They say to Jesus: We need help, make it better, increase our faith.

I’m guessing many of us feel kind of like the disciples right now. The world is a lot. Things are hard. We could use some help here Jesus. Maybe if we could just have a little more faith, that would help us to keep on keeping on. Then we could work together with people who think differently, we could be more hopeful, we could forgive, we could work for change. So Jesus, help us out. Increase our faith. Seems reasonable, right? Jesus doesn’t seem to think so. I don’t like the way he responds to this request. He’s direct and harsh and not at all warm and fuzzy. Yet I have a sneaking suspicion that Jesus’ response is exactly what we need today.

Before we ponder his response, I do have to say that Jesus’ metaphor of the master and his slave doesn’t work for us today. No one should be called a worthless slave. I hope you never think of yourself that way. Jesus used all sorts of common images from his daily life in an unjust economic system. We heard another one of them a few weeks ago in the parable of the dishonest manager.

Jesus used these images not to endorse injustice but to make his teachings concrete.

To be able to take in Jesus’ wisdom today, it’s more helpful to picture scenes from our daily lives our jobs, homes, schools, families. So, imagine this. You’re struggling with something at work or in class, you tell the boss or teacher and he says, “You’re right, that’s so hard, let me just make it bet- ter. You tell me how to help you and I’ll do it, whatever you ask of me.” That might feel good at first, but would you learn and grow? Would you gain confidence in your gifts? When the disciples are struggling with what he’s asking of them, Jesus offers a different type of encouragement. The ways he encourages reminds me of the best boss I’ve ever had, Dave Jarvis. Dave’s been Executive Director at Rainbow Trail Lutheran Camp in Colorado for thirty-one years. 

I worked for him for three summers, two as a camp counselor and one as the summer program director. Dave has incredible vision for how to develop faith as well as leadership and community building skills in campers. At many camps, the counselors organize and lead the worship services, daily activities, and evening events. This often results in wonderful, counselor-led programming.

But at Rainbow Trail, the kids work together to plan out the daily schedule and take turns leading worship and all camp activities. The counselors work behind the scenes to help the kids communicate and compromise, schedule and organize, plan and prepare to lead. This is a ton of work!

It’s a lot easier for counselors to lead everything. This model also means counselors get just 24 hours off between each session with campers. At most other camps, they get closer to 48 hours off. Besides all this, there are literal mountains to climb with kids, it being Colorado and all.

Working at Rainbow Trail is a lot. It’s amazing and life-changing, but it is also intimidating and overwhelming. When I was program director it was early in Dave’s tenure at the camp. I some- times told him, “I think this is too much for the staff.” That never went over well. Dave didn’t respond by saying, “Oh no, maybe we should do something to make it easier. Maybe we should ask them what they think would be best.” No. Dave would look at me with his intense eyes and his jaw set firmly. “They’ve got it,” he’d say. “You’ve got it. Get back to work.” Dave knew his role was to have the vision and lead his team. It would not have been good if that vision had changed based on the feelings and demands of the staff. He kept his eye on the big picture. He helped the staff to know we could do the work. He didn’t do this by being warm and fuzzy, but by giving us tools and trusting us to use them.

Jesus responds in a similar way when his first disciples and when we feel like things are too hard, when we think we need more faith. He says, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” He’s using some hyperbole here. I picture Dave Jarvis saying to me, if you had faith the size of this water bottle, you could tell it to fly to the top of the mountain on Hike Day and it would obey you.

There’s also something lost in translation with Jesus’ words here. What he says is more like: “if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, and you know you do, you can work wonders.” You have enough faith, Jesus says to us. You have all that you need for these difficult days. This is true for each of us, for you. God has created you good. God has given you so many gifts:

     Jesus has claimed you as his own and made you part of his church;

     Jesus creates faith in you, through the power of the Holy Spirit;

     Jesus sends you to carry out his vision.

This is a vision for the healing of the world. It is a life-changing and demanding vision. It asks a lot of us. Jesus asks a lot of us. Jesus asks us to love people who make our blood boil, to explain our neighbor’s actions in the kindest way possible, to show up for community when we are tired, hold others accountable, forgive, put our gifts to use in service to others. This can all be a bit intimidating. It’s OK if we feel daunted, unqualified, ill prepared. Jesus won’t be deterred by our feelings and demands. He can’t be stopped from carrying out the vision. He’ll keep calling us to join him, to use what we’ve been given and follow where he leads

 As we do, we find we truly have everything we need.

 As we do, we experience the healing Jesus is bringing to everyone.

We can trust and follow him.