“Love for the Real World”

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church  

 Decorah, Iowa

Click here to read the Story for July 30

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

Have you been hearing the buzz about the Barbie movie?  I never imagined I’d talk about Barbie in a sermon. However, when your yoga instructor tells you that you have to go see a movie about a plastic doll, you pay attention. When that movie is also recommended by the Shepherds of your Flock, Luther and Lise, whose professions are organizational consultant and English professor, you pay attention.

And when five different friends, in one week, send you the text of a monologue from the movie about the impossibility of being a woman, you pay attention. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but it is definitely hitting a cultural nerve. And maybe because I’ve been hearing about it all week, the Barbie movie has helped me think about Jacob and his messed-up family. In the movie, Stereotypical Barbie lives in a perfect, plastic world until she has an existential crisis and decides to enter the Real World. The characters throughout the story of Jacob’s family definitely live in the real world of their time – not a lot of perfection on view.

Jacob and his twin brother wrestle so much in the womb that their mother wants to die.

They come out fighting, with Jacob holding on to the firstborn twin Esau’s heel. Jacob tricks Esau out of his inheritance and then deceives his father into giving him the blessing that should have gone to the firstborn Esau. Jacob has to flee Esau’s murderous rage. Then Jacob’s uncle Laban tricks him into marrying Laban’s firstborn daughter Leah when Jacob really wants to marry Rachel, the beautiful one. Jacob doesn’t even realize he has married the wrong daughter until the morning after their wedding night. What’s up with that?

Some of the troubling parts of their story are related to that culture – like Jacob marrying two of his cousins and women being treated as property. Some still persist today, especially the emphasis on how women look, and some are because this family has serious issues.

Jacob has serious issues.

I often marvel at how realistic and honest this story is. You’d think in describing the origins of their faith, the Jewish people might have tried to clean up the story a bit, made their fore- bearers seem a little more appealing, done a little filtering? After all, these aren’t just any forebearers – these characters are intimately connected with God throughout scripture. God is often introduced as the God of Jacob, and the God of his father Isaac and his grand-

father Abraham. You’d think people mentioned so often in the same breath as God might be spruced up a bit for public consumption? Instead, we see these folks just as they are, warts and all.

When we’re tempted to try to clean up our origins and our stories as a country, as com- munities, as families, scripture points us in a different direction. The witness of scripture, and apparently the Barbie movie, is that it’s better to face the truth, face the real. 

I wonder if Jacob is forced to face the hard realities of his life when he comes up against Laban. The trickster, the deceiver, is tricked and deceived. The man who stole what was owed to the firstborn is thwarted by other cultural norms for firstborns. Does Jacob have to wrestle with this all during the fourteen years he works for Laban? He certainly has to wrestle with God in a story we’ll hear next week. Jacob eventually reconciles with his

brother Esau. Facing the truth of his life seems to prepare him for that reconciliation.

All of God’s people are called to the work of reconciliation, work that involves honestly ad- dressing the realities of our world and our lives. Jacob lived in an unjust, messed up culture.

He also responded in less than honorable ways. Our culture is messed up and unjust in its own ways. How will we respond to it all? How will we live? In what ways can we work for reconciliation?

What are the truths about our individual and collective stories that we need to face? The Barbie movie holds up a mirror to many of them, especially gender roles, the objectification of women, patriarchy, materialism, consumerism. I hope you’ll read the monologue from the movie that is resonating with so many women right now.^[1] I’ll put a link to it in the text of the sermon.

The racial justice work that we’re doing as a congregation includes facing the truths of our origin stories as a country and as Lutheran Americans of mostly European descent. We’re learning about the role Lutherans played in American slavery and the displacement of in- digenous peoples. We’re asking how Dylann Roof could grow up active in an ELCA congre- gation and then go on to kill nine Christians at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina;^[2] and why is it that the ELCA is the whitest denomination in the country. We’re wrestling with our white privilege and the ways we’re shaped by white supremacy culture.

The witness of scripture is that wrestling with all of this prayerfully, together as the people of God, will lead to transformation, reconciliation, and healing. It’s hard work to address all these harsh realities. Yet we don’t face them alone. Christ Jesus has entered into all that is painful and hard in our world, even into death. He has faced it all and overcome, rising from death.

Now nothing in all creation – not our own failings, not the brokenness of our world, not hardship or suffering or death – can separate us from the love of God. We are held secure in that love. That love is what is most real and true for you and for me.

This love provides our true identity – beloved child of God.

This love accompanies us, transforms us, forgives us, and raises us up, again and again.

Nothing is perfect in this world except the love of God.

You are loved, forgiven, and set free to live with love in our real world.

[1] https://www.elle.com/culture/movies-tv/a44640422/america-ferrera-full-barbie-monologue/

[2]  https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3134689/Dylann-Roof-devout-Christian-baptized-Lutheran-faith-went-church-camp-regularly-attended-Mass-reveals-pastor-family-attend-church-services-pray-massacre-victims.html

“More than Enough Blessing”

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church  

 Decorah, Iowa

Story for July 23 

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

“Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it”, Jacob says.

The other night, I felt that way about my kitchen, and I was quite surprised by that sense. I often encounter God at the table with my family, with friends and community, but in the actual kitchen – not so much. I can cook and sometimes I even enjoy it. I know feeding people is holy work, but

I’ve not had what I would describe as a divine encounter while cooking. And this particular night,

I was in the kitchen for something I really don’t enjoy – a craft project.

My grandma and my mom both wore a funny button that proudly proclaimed,  “I don’t do crafts.”

The button has been lost but I’ve also claimed that as a life motto, especially when we’re planning for Vacation Bible School. (Thank you, Harriet Hayes and Abby Larson, for leading crafts this year.)

Abby enjoys crafting and I love spending time with her, hence the other night in my kitchen.

Abby texted me in the middle of a long day asking if I wanted to make a candle with her that night. Sure, I wrote back, time with her. As the long day wore on, I could feel the fatigue settling into my bones. I made it home just before six o’clock to a lovely meal prepared by my husband, Matt, bless him. But the night ahead felt a bit daunting. My son Nate needed to work on some college financial stuff with me, I wanted a walk with Matt, and there was still the candle project looming.

This wasn’t just any candle project either. Abby wanted to make a very large candle layered with many of the shells she’s collected on beaches and riverbanks. We’d have to position the shells just so, try to hold them as we poured the hot wax, wait for it to dry, and repeat. I prepared myself to grin and bear it, and then I was surprised by joy. Matt helped with some of the initial set up and

got us going on a plan, bless him. Then Abby and I worked and talked and laughed. Her delight in the simple pleasures of life is such a blessing to me. It was a holy and renewing time. Surely, the Lord was in that place. God showed up for me in a craft project.

Jacob, too, is surprised by God’s presence. Jacob is having a rough time, much rougher than my long day of work. You could argue he’d brought on many of the challenges himself. His twin broth- er Esau, the first-born twin, is furious with Jacob for good reason. Jacob had persuaded Esau to give up his inheritance. Then Jacob tricked their father Isaac into giving him the blessing that was supposed to go to Esau. Now Esau is raging, and Jacob is on the run in the wilderness, facing un- foreseen consequences of his actions. He stumbles upon a certain place that is, really, no particu- lar place. He lands there just because the sun is setting, and he needs to sleep.

There, in a no-man’s-land kind of place, far from any religious shrine or temple, God shows up and blesses him. I love that God is present where he least expects it and also that God freely gives him the very thing he thought he had to connive and finagle, grasp and steal – a blessing. Not only that, God says that through Jacob and his offspring, all the families of the earth will be blessed.

In Jacob’s family, there was only one blessing, a blessing for the eldest son. Once Esau and Isaac realize that Jacob has used deceit and trickery to steal the blessing, Esau pleads, “Bless me too father.” Isaac says he can’t, he’s already given the blessing to Jacob. Esau cries, “Haven’t you re- served a blessing for me?” This part of the story always puzzles me. Why can’t both brothers be blessed? But that wasn’t how things worked in that culture.It was a zero-sum game, one person’s gain another’s loss. One received a blessing, the rest of the siblings did not. Our families and soci- ety function differently, but still, zero-sum thinking drives a lot of what we do.

It was driving me that night in the kitchen with the candle, honestly. I wanted to be with Abby

and yet I wondered if crafting would take all the energy I had left, leaving me empty. As we jug-   gle demands, roles and commitments in households and families, workplaces, congregations,

and communities, it’s easy to think that there just isn’t enough to go around – not enough time,

not enough energy, not enough resources – that your gain is my loss.

Even if we don’t resort to deceit and trickery like Jacob, we often think we must hustle and fina-

gle and scheme and plot to make sure we get what we want and need. We’re pretty sure that others should only get what’s owed them, and that if they’ve ever played outside the rules, they should pay the price, get what’s coming to them.

Yet that’s not how things work in God’s economy, in the household of God. God had every reason

to give Jacob what he deserves – judgment and punishment. Instead, God surprises Jacob with

presence and promise and blessing, blessing beyond what he can ask or imagine. God blesses

Jacob and shows him he will continue to be blessed in relationships with other people. There is more than enough blessing to go around. The same is true for us.

God blesses us even in this wilderness time for our planet, for our country, even as we face the unforeseen consequences of our actions.

God blesses us even when we deserve judgment and punishment.

God is here, even when we don’t know it, even when we can’t recognize God’s presence.

God is with you and will keep you wherever you go.

God blesses you and all people with more than enough hope and energy and joy and abundance.

That night in my kitchen, I was approaching family life as a zero-sum game. I was surprised by God’s presence, surprised by blessing and delight and renewal and the sense that, in God, there is enough.

Where might God meet you and bless you today?

How will that blessing flow through you to others?

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

“God the Matchmaker?”

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church  

 Decorah, Iowa

Click here to read the story for today.

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

My family often teases me about how little I know of pop culture. One of the few ways I learn any- thing about it is through the public radio news quiz show Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me which is not what you’d call cutting edge. I’m such an NPR nerd. Still, I learn some stuff there.

Last week the featured guest on Wait, Wait … was Aleeza Ben Shalom, star of a new Netflix show called Jewish Matchmaking. Apparently, this is a spinoff on the show Indian Matchmaking. My ears perked up as the Jewish Matchmaker was introduced because I’ve been pondering how God plays matchmaker for Isaac and Rebekah. I’ve also been wondering a bit, doesn’t God have more important things to do than arranging marriages?

I mean, maybe in the case of Rebekah and Isaac it makes sense. Isaac is part of the chosen family, blessed by God to be a blessing to the world. He needs to get married so that the family will carry on, so that God can continue to bless the world through them. There’s a larger purpose at work.

For that reason, it makes sense that God meddles to make sure they meet, court, and get married.

Their marriage isn’t just so that they will have a nice life together. It’s about the whole human race.

But generally, is God’s finger really in most human relationships pushing us together, arranging marriages, making sure we meet friends and mentors? Doesn’t God have better things to do? The rabbis didn’t think so. The ancient Jewish rabbis, who were the first interpreters of scripture, saw God as the ultimate matchmaker.

There’s a fun portion of midrash, rabbinical teaching, that describes God this way. Rabbi Yose bar Halafta was asked by a Roman matron: “You claim that your God created the world in six days. Then what has He been doing since then?” Rabbi Yose replied, “All this time the Holy One has been making matches.” “That is no great feat!” declared the matron. “I can do that just as well.” But Rabbi Yose warned her: “It is not as simple as you think. The Holy One, blessed be He, considers making matches as difficult as splitting the Red Sea.”

That’s something to ponder. Maybe making matches all day, every day, is what God does. Maybe that’s how God transforms the world – through matchmaking. Which is to say, through nurturing human relationships. Maybe, since the beginning of time, God has been working to bring people together. Not only so that we will have nice lives, but also so that we can bless the world through our marriages and families, our friendships, communities, and congregations, through the ways we live together with one another.

As I’ve pondered that this week, I keep thinking about my Grandma, who is 101 years old, and all her relationships. Grandma was orphaned by the time she was thirteen, during the Great Depression. She got through because family friends brought her into their home and because her older siblings helped out. When Grandma was twenty, she fell in love, got married to my grandpa, and soon they were expecting a child, my dad. But then grandpa was sent to Italy to fight in World War II. He was killed there about a month before my dad was born.

For ten years Grandma raised my dad on her own and they were so close. Then she remarried and had five more kids. My dad was so happy to have siblings. He graduated from high school the same month the youngest two, his twin sisters, were born. Grandma’s second marriage ended in a painful divorce. Yet she remains so grateful that it gave her five more wonderful kids. One of the most painful losses for Grandma was the death of her son, my dad. He died of cancer when he was just sixty-three years old. Grandma misses him terribly, as do his siblings, my aunts and uncles. They honor dad’s memory and tend to Grandma’s grief and to all of our grief so beautifully.

I see that God has nourished and sustained Grandma through other people as she’s faced so many challenges. Her relationships have been a blessing to her and to others. They have served God’s purposes for her and for all of us – healing, well-being, blessing, hope. I do believe God has been a matchmaker in my Grandma’s life, that God has been involved in all the relationships that have brought her joy and pain. I believe God has been working in all of it to heal and transform her and the world around her. Grandma has learned and has taught her family that we live not for ourselves, but for one another and for other people.

I also believe God is a matchmaker in each of our lives. Our stories may not be as epic as Isaac and Rebekah’s, or even as my Grandma’s, but God blesses us and others through our relationships.

God is intimately involved. When our bonds are loving and healthy, God is at work to strengthen them. When they are conflicted and painful, God is at work to heal and help. God accompanies us

in all the joys and sorrows of our lives, and our lives together with others.

So maybe God is the ultimate matchmaker. And, as people made in God’s image we are called to be matchmakers too, not in the Jewish Matchmaker sense. We probably won’t have to star in a Netflix show. Yet God does ask us to nurture relationships so that as families, congregations, and commu- nities we can care for others and pass on faith, sharing the good news that God is intimately involved in the world and in our lives.

That’s what we’re doing with the Shepherd and Flock Ministry. It’s why we’re doing a youth trip to build relationships with one another and with neighbors in Waterloo.

Today, God meets us here, meets you here at the wellspring of the baptismal font and at the table

to heal, forgive and renew you for this holy work of tending to relationships and blessing the world.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.

“Ask the Questions”

Reverend Amy Zalk Larson

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church  

 Decorah, Iowa

Click here to read the story for today.

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

Recently a school board in Utah decided that the Bible should be removed from elementary school libraries. Utah has a new law banning “pornographic or indecent” materials in public school settings. In an attempt to undermine that law, a parent made the case that the Bible should be banned. After all, she argued, the Bible contains descriptions of incest, prostitu- tion, rape, infanticide. The majority of the school board sided with her. Not surprisingly, the decision is being appealed.

That whole situation has helped me think differently about the story of God asking Abra- ham to sacrifice Isaac. I’ve sometimes wondered if we should even read it anymore, espe- cially in public worship with kids present. It’s so troubling. What kind of God would ask this of Abraham and put Isaac through this? Even if there was a larger plan, why traumatize Isaac by asking his father to bind him and hold a knife up to him? Why does Abraham agree so readily? Why doesn’t he protest?

I’m concerned about how this story has been heard and used throughout the centuries. How does it sound to survivors of abuse and violence? How often has it been used to justify religious extremism?  An attitude of I must fear God before all else has led people to neglect and harm those who get in the way of such single-minded devotion. There is a lot of evi- dence that this story helped the Jewish people move away from the common ancient prac- tice of child sacrifice. God provided a ram showing God does not desire the death of child- ren. Still, many argue that this story has done irreparable harm and should never be heard again.

The recent discussions about banning books are giving me a new perspective on this story.

When there are things that make us uncomfortable – in our scriptures, in our society, in our own lives – it’s tempting to avoid them or push them away. But does that help? Does it work to push family secrets under the rug? Is it good to keep children from learning painful sto- ries? We often do that these days, but how is it working out for us and for the kids?

What happens when we face what is hard with curiosity, with compassion together? This week, I’ve been curious about Isaac’s role in this story. Often, we focus on what God may have been trying to teach Abraham through this whole ordeal. But then Isaac just becomes an abstraction, an object lesson, rather than a person, a child. It seems important to pay at- tention to the child in this story. Abraham does that. Even as he is responding to God, he is also responding to his son.

Maybe you caught this when we read the story together. God calls to Abraham twice and both times, Abraham says, “Here I am.” Isaac also calls to him, and Abraham responds the same way, “Here I am.”  Abraham attends to the voice of God as well as the voice of his son.

It’s interesting, too, that Isaac does have a voice in this story. He speaks. He asks a question, ‘Where is the lamb for the burnt offering, father?’ I picture Abraham wincing at Isaac’s question, thinking “Ugh … I was hoping to keep this from him a bit longer”, hoping he wouldn’t notice the missing animal just yet.

But kids often pick up on a lot more than we realize. They don’t miss much. Kids in our day also ask difficult questions: questions about gun violence, racism, climate change, about  what kind of future we are leaving them. How are we attending to what they ask of us? Will we try to silence their questions, their voices? Will we seek to shield them from pain, try to pretend it doesn’t exist?

Abraham’s child asks a painful question that points the way forward. “Where is the lamb … father?” Abraham responds, “God will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” I 

wonder if Abraham is surprised by what comes out of his own mouth. I wonder if Isaac’s question and his response help him begin to trust, begin to hope that maybe God will pro- vide, maybe he doesn’t have to provide everything himself.

I wonder if Abraham needed Isaac’s painful, revealing question. I wonder what questions we need today? How can we welcome uncomfortable observations, painful revelations,   hard questions, rather than avoiding them or pushing them away? How can we stay with what unsettles us? How can we respond, “Here I am,” to God and to others, even when we feel uncertain and afraid?

This is a place, a community, where we can ask hard questions about God, our lives, the life of the world, the future. This is a community where we can be with what is uncomfortable –

breathing with it, praying with it, staying with it – where we can bring all that troubles us to God. This is a community where we can begin, again and again, to trust, to hope, to discover the ways that God does provide.

Here we are assured that God doesn’t shy away from what’s hard. God faces it head on. Our Heavenly Father knows what it is to give his own son, to witness his son’s death. Jesus knows what it is to suffer. The Spirit shares in our own weakness.

We are not alone.

We are accompanied, every step of the way, by the God who provides.

We can practice compassion and curiosity, trust and hope, together.