Offer the Cup-Pastor Brad Stienstra

Matt. 10:40-42

6/28/26

Perhaps as you sit here now in the familiar space of the sanctuary in your much-loved church home, you are completely unaware of how closely your congregation is following the teaching of Jesus found in this morning’s gospel. Maybe it has become second nature to you here over the years, and therefore something you don’t have to talk about much, but let me take a moment to point out that your behavior toward me thus far is worthy of commendation. Just as the members of the early church in Matthew’s time were urged to do when they were confronted in their worship service with the presence of a weird-looking traveling preacher, you have chosen to greet me with warm hospitality. Not only metaphorically, but literally, I have received from you the appropriate gesture of welcome Jesus outlined as appropriate in such cases. A number of you went out of your way to offer not just a polite hello but to ask if there was anything I needed, if I would like some water. You indicated by this simple act that you wanted me to be comfortable and to feel accepted as I perform the ministry of bringing God’s word of grace to this campus where I have never before set foot. Somewhere along the way, you have clearly learned the lesson and taken it to heart that it matters that care is offered, because in the person of a disciple of Jesus, the presence and power of the Lord is embodied. So, in faithful obedience to Jesus, you have become cup bearers to me. In doing this, you have not only opened yourselves up to the blessing of receiving the Christ in the words I speak and the sacrament I am here to share with you, but you offer Jesus, too. You show that you have a firm grasp on the important truth that you also are called to this work that has been given to the whole church and not just to the clergy. What we are to remember is that, as ill-considered as it might appear at first, it is the plan of God that each believer is granted a role in representing, or maybe we might better say re-presenting, the ministry of the Savior of the whole world. And it is those exemplary folks who intentionally live out this understanding who have a chance to make resurrection life real for each person they encounter – not only for those who summon up the courage to walk through the church doors, but also for those who seldom dare to entertain the thought of doing such a scary thing. In the gospel reading I think Jesus is celebrating cup bearers who understand they aren’t just supposed to engage in welcoming preachers. He encourages all who would be his followers to open their eyes to the potential that every human being carries inside. He would like his church to be as attentive to those who are in need of care as he is, because that is how his work can continue to be done in the world. One man I heard about not long ago seems to have embodied the importance of maintaining this outward focus. He had recently purchased a fitness center. His dream was to better the lives of those who paid for his expert services, making each of them stronger and healthier by guiding them through individually designed training regimes. He fully expected that his business would soon thrive as word spread through the neighborhood of what he had to offer and how hard he was willing to work to make it possible for his customers to reach their goals. But that was not how things appeared to be going. The economic environment was proving even tougher than his most pessimistic projections. In spite of getting to the fitness center by 6 each morning and staying until 9 or 10 at night, Monday through Sunday, his business was making little headway, and he had a lot of time on his hands to worry about what he was going to do to avoid having to close the place down. He couldn’t seem to think about anything other than his own troubles, because they hounded him throughout the long, mostly unproductive hours of his day. The only moment of peace to which he could actually look forward in what was becoming an otherwise depressing routine was right after he unlocked the doors each morning. Since it was still too early for any of his handful of regular customers, he had time to make himself a cup of coffee and then take it out into the small yard behind the building to drink it in the solitude provided by the still slumbering neighborhood. However, even that rare time off from his worries was disturbed one day when he discovered a young man sleeping in an old car that had long ago been abandoned on the property. He immediately walked over to the car and knocked forcefully on the window to rouse the trespasser and send him on his way, fully expecting that he would quickly move on, never to be a problem again. But the next morning, there he was again, asleep in the same spot. Once more the owner of the fitness club pounded on the window and shooed the intruder from the yard. This exercise soon became an unwanted additonal part of the morning ritual as the young stranger stubbornly continued to seek the relative safety of the abandoned car to sleep off the hangover from yet another night of binge drinking. Getting tired of dealing with this added problem after a full week of having his wishes ignored, the owner of the property, who could make himself very physically intimidating, was just about to take more aggressive, hands-on action when he suddenly remembered the values with which he had been raised and stopped himself right before angrily putting his elbow through the glass of the window. Taking a deep breath, he instead walked slowly back into the building, where he made another cup of coffee, this one for his young trespasser. He then returned to the car, awakened his “guest,” presented the coffee to him, and gently began a conversation instead of running him off. He inquired into his story, learning about the many burdens this stranger had been suffering under for the last few years. Over the next days of ongoing chats over a cup of coffee, a relationship started to develop between them. The business owner took the homeless young man under his wing. Forgetting his own problems for a while, he bought him some clothes, helped him find a job, and made sure he had a safe place to stay. While all this effort was appreciated, it didn’t bring about an immediate happy ending. Bouts of drinking and other setbacks didn’t magically cease. Each of these many disappointments caused the frustrated fitness center owner to contemplate drawing a line in the sand and telling the younger man this was his last chance. At least weekly, he would hear himself loudly declare that if the young man messed up again, he was done trying to help him. But he never could bring himself to act on his ultimatums. Instead, he persisted in his attempt to follow Jesus’ teaching about being a bearer of a cup of hospitality. And this determination to care, to meet this troubled person where he was with the patient encouragement to become something new finally made the difference. A very slow to unfold miracle began to take place – far outside the church’s walls – and today a greatly changed person is now a fully contributing member of the community. Without it ever being identified as a goal, he has even found his way into the assembly of believers – all because of a man who remembered he was chosen by God to be a cup bearer to those who were thirsty for the water of life. I wonder about the difference we could make in the world if we, too, lived each of our days in a way that offered welcome and caring to those who cross paths with us outside these walls where Jesus comes every Sunday with the cup of blessing for us. He still wants to be present for every one of God’s created children, and it is in the person of each of you that such a glorious thing can begin to happen. All it takes is your willingness simply to be as hospitable to others as you have been with me, providing them with a taste of the Easter life that is yours. Amen.

Sermon on Matthew 10:24-39

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Happy Father’s Day!

As our Gospel reading says today:“For I have come to set a man against his father.” Wait, no, that’s not very celebratory.

How about: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me”—that’s worse!

Let’s try a different part: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword”—that’s just a hard message to hear from Jesus all around.

This isn’t the “meek and mild” shepherd view of Jesus we sometimes hold onto.

But it isn’t a conqueror Jesus, or a jealous, controlling “you can’t love anyone but me” Jesus either.

Jesus, who blessed peacemakers, promoted loving our neighbor, and told Peter to put away his sword, wasn’t about warmongeringor hating people.

He was, however, realistic about how his message of God’s peace, inclusion, justice, and love would be received. He knew that people invested in the status quo wouldn’t be open to the upside-down Reign of God where the last shall be first and the first shall be last. They might even violently oppose it.

Jesus wasn’t going to sugarcoat his message to make it palatable for people who were made comfortable by systems that hurt and oppressed others.

He knew he would be called names like “Beelzebul” and would likely be arrested and executed for speaking against the exploitative values of the Roman Empire. So, as he was teaching his disciples to bring mercy and the Good News of the Beloved Community to those around them as we read last week, he was also preparing them for what the reactions of those in power would likely be.

If people were insulting Jesus, they would also insult his disciples.

If Jesus’ own hometown threw him out, his disciples’ families and neighbors would probably disown them as well.

If those in power threatened Jesus with violence, Jesus’ disciples were also in physical danger.

Jesus’ message about God’s Reign would be received poorly by some.

That’s still true today.

Christians disagree on a lot of things, to the point where people from two different denominations might hold opposing views on almost everything.

Too often it’s self-proclaimed Christians who hurl insults at each other. Too often it’s Christians who are known for exclusion.

Too often it’s the family of the Body of Christ that’s set against itself.

It’s enough to hurt one’s soul.

Our Southern Baptist siblings voted by almost three quarters last week to ban churches that allow women to be pastors or to preach. It’s easy to imagine why that was hard for me to hear.

And while so many churches proclaim that “all are welcome,” the best LGBTQ folks can expect in many congregations is bare tolerance, like “you’re welcome to sit in our pews, but if you don’t feel bad about yourself, then you’re not welcome until you’ve ‘repented.’ And don’t even think about asking if you can be part of a leadership team or lead worship music. But, of course, you’re welcome here.”

Churches—Roman Catholic and Protestant—have become known for sexual abuse and for going to great lengths to cover it up. That’s so far from the Christian value of protecting the vulnerable.

Sunday morning is still the “most segregated” time of the week instead of church being “a house of prayer for all nations,” like it says in Isaiah.We’re still feeling the legacy of racism and exclusion that stretches back centuries.

That the Church is known for exclusion, intolerance, discrimination, and abuse instead of the Beloved Community that Jesus came to invite us into hurts our souls.

The message of God’s peace, inclusion, justice, and love still isn’t always received well.

It requires us to be around people we would rather not spend time with. It challenges our ideas of who should be allowed to speak the word of God. It threatens our reputations and those of institutions we care about. It defies the way we’ve always done things around here. It’s uncomfortable, risky, inconvenient, and messy.

But if the world called Jesus names, his disciples should be living so much like him that the world calls them those names too.

If Jesus was going to be considered an enemy of the state to the point where he was arrested and executed, then his disciples needed to know what was on the line for them as well.

That’s what it means to take up the cross and follow Jesus.

Now, that doesn’t sound like very good news.

Even though Jesus wasn’t actually encouraging people to hate their families, it doesn’t sound like good news that he was teaching his disciples to live in a way that might result in their families hating them.

But he knew that the resulting Beloved Community would be worth it.

He promised that those who lost their life for his sake would find it.

He promised life for those who were so in love with the way of living he was inviting them into that it was worth the risk—people who were poor, outcast, suffering, and who saw something so beautiful in Jesus that they couldn’t look away, couldn’t pretend they hadn’t been changed by the possibilities he opened.

In other parts of the Gospels, he promised new family for those who would lose theirs for his sake.

Our LGBTQ siblings, many of whom have lost family members for being truthful about who our fabulously creative God made them to be, would call that “chosen family.”

Living fully into the identity God gave you might require sacrifice—Jesus was honest about that—and that loss is real and worthy of grief.

And,God doesn’t abandon us. God surrounds us with chosen family—people we aren’t necessarily related to who love us the way we are, support us in hard times, allow us to support them too, and who believe in God’s peace, inclusion, justice, and love.Then, we get to do our best to live that out together.

What does that look like? Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I think we need artists and poets for that. It’s hard to imagine what God’s peace, inclusion, justice, and love look like when what we know is war, exclusion, injustice, and hate.

You probably saw in this week’s announcement email that the musicalHadestown will be in movie theaters for a few days in July. It was one of my favorite shows my family saw last year in London.It’s a retelling of the Greek tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice. Hope you can join me for that—it’s a fantastic show (though it is a tragedy, so bring tissues).

Before we left on our trip, I started listening to the soundtrack, and three songs in, I burst into tears. Orpheus, who has a literal gods-given gift for music, is meeting Eurydice and has already fallen head over heels for her. He’s explaining that he’s writing a song because the seasons have gotten out of whack because of the gods.

He sings, “I'm workin' on a song
It isn't finished yet
But when it's done and when I sing it
Spring will come again….

A song to fix what's wrong
Take what's broken, make it whole
A song so beautiful
It brings the world back into tune
Back into time
And all the flowers will bloom”

I burst into tears in my kitchen, because the idea of a whole, unbroken, in-tuneworld was so beautiful I could hardly imagine it.

And the belief that music—art—could fix what’s broken in the world was so encouraging, hope leaked from my eyes.

That’s what Beloved Community could be. That’s what God is imagining and inviting us to be a part of.

It might cost everything, but Jesus promises to be with us and that it’ll be worth it.

Let’s join in the song.

Sermon on Matthew 9:35-10:8

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Jesus went to all the cities and villages to proclaim the Good News and cured every disease and every sickness.

And when he looked at the crowds, he saw how harassed and helpless they were and felt compassion.

His mission of love and mercy was important and needed, but it sounds like he was getting a bit overwhelmed.

But instead of getting burned out and deciding to throw in the towel, he looked at those he was serving and his heart was moved. He couldn’t just give up.

But even after going to all the cities and all the villages and curingevery disease and every sickness, the need was still great.

What was he supposed to do?

Compassion fatigue is real. It’s hard to continue to dedicate oneself to helping people when the problems of the world are so many and so enormous.

It feels good to help one person, but when you spend day after day, year after year, decade after decade trying to make a difference, it can feel like trying to stop a wildfire with a glass of water.

You come to church and hear about loving your neighbor, sharing God’s love and compassion with the world, and it can feel like you have nothing left to give.

And maybe you volunteer with Caring Hands and that’s so important and wonderful. But then you notice the same person in line who you saw last year or five years ago or maybe even ten years ago, and you know that person works hard and loves their family, and you just don’t understand why they still don’t make enough money to buy what they need.

And then you start thinking about the factors that might keep them impoverished:maybe growing up in a neighborhood with underserved schools, racism, sexism, or homophobia that kept them from certain job opportunities, medical debt, or needing to care for a family member without the resources to get outside help, or a multitude of other possibilities.

While we can help with food, which is so important, it can feel impossible for one person to make a difference when it comes to the factors that contribute to someone needing a food pantry.

And then, sometimes there are senseless acts of violence and hatred that can make us feel so powerless.

This Wednesday, we commemorate the Emanuel Nine: the nine Black people who in 2015 went to their Bible study at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, when a young white man,who had grown up in an ELCA congregation, shot and killed them, hoping to start a race war.

The ELCA commemorates this day to honor those who were martyred and as a call to dismantle the white supremacy that spurred that young man.

It can feel futile to speak of God’s love and inclusion in the face of violence like that, which unfortunately is hardly the most recent act of violence motivated by hatred.

So, what did Jesus do when he felt overwhelmed?

He invited his closest friends to pray. It’s easy for us to want to jump right to doing something, forgetting that prayer is doing something.

Prayer grounds us in God’s love for us and our calling to do, as is attributed to Mother Teresa, “small things with great love.” And praying with others reminds us that we as individuals are just small parts of the whole Body of Christ. We’re part of something much bigger than ourselves.

Then, Jesus empowered his friends and followers to do what he was doing. Instead of just trying to work harder and faster, Jesus invited other people in.

“Many hands make light work,” as the old saying goes. And while God’s work of justice, mercy, inclusion, and love may not be light, it does require many, many hands, and it’s easier to keep going when we can encourage each other instead of trying to maintain our motivation by ourselves.

One thing to note is that it might sound jarring that Jesus told his disciples not to go to Gentile territories or to the Samaritans. But remember that by the end of this Gospel, Jesus told his disciples to “make disciples of all nations.” We read that just a few weeks ago. Jesus started his mission by sending his Jewish disciples to his own Jewish people, and his mission would eventually extend to the whole world. For now, he and his disciples stayed local and focused.

It’s a good reminder that even Jesus started small. He saved the world, but he started in his own community. Not many of us will have a national or global platform to effect change. Often, we can make the biggest difference on a local level.

And we can make a bigger difference locally if we work together. One person handing out groceries is good. Many people joining together to form Caring Hands makes a much bigger difference.

One person making a public comment at city hall is good. Many people making public comment about something they collectively care about will hopefully get attention and bring about change.

There were people before Rosa Parks who refused to give up their seats on the bus to white people, but it took a lot of people boycotting the buses for over a year and setting up rides for each other and walking together to work and helping each other out before the Montgomery bus system was integrated. And of course, the Civil Rights movement did far more than that.

But it took groups of people working together, sacrificing together, believing together in the possibility of a better world to make change. And it was on a local as well as a national scale.

Even Rosa Parks and Dr. King couldn’t make a difference on their own. They’re two of the leaders we remember most vividly, but there were so many others who contributed. It was a community effort—a Beloved Community effort.

I often use Beloved Community interchangeably with the Kingdom of God, and the term was popularized by Dr. King.

According to The King Center, “The Beloved Community was for him a realistic, achievable goal that could be attained by a critical mass of people committed to and trained in the philosophy and methods of nonviolence.

“Dr. King’s Beloved Community is a global vision, in which all people can share in the wealth of the earth. In the Beloved Community, poverty, hunger and homelessness will not be tolerated because international standards of human decency will not allow it. Racism and all forms of discrimination, bigotry and prejudice will be replaced by an all-inclusive spirit of sisterhood and brotherhood. In the Beloved Community, international disputes will be resolved by peaceful conflict-resolution and reconciliation of adversaries, instead of military power. Love and trust will triumph over fear and hatred. Peace with justice will prevail over war and military conflict.”

While I don’t believe we’ll fully realize this before Jesus comes again, I do believe it’s our mission to cocreate with God toward this powerful and costly form of peace and justice.

It’s a mission that can seem overwhelming in the face of violence, hatred, scarcity, and fear. But, like Jesus, we can start by praying with each other and then acting with compassion, mercy, and justice in our local community.

With God’s help, we can be the hands and feet of Jesus, sharing God’s love with the world and building Beloved Community right where we are.