Sermon onLuke 24:44-53

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

We extinguish the Pascal candle on Ascension Day to remind us that we no longer have the physical presence of Jesus among us in the way his disciples did after his resurrection. But remember that next week is Pentecost, when we remember that tongues of flame, like the one I just put out appeared on the forehead of each Jesus follower.The physical body of Christ became the Body of Christ in the Church.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

And that’s exactly what Jesus warned his disciples against: in Luke, he said, “stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high” and in Acts, “he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait there for the promise of the Father.”

 As much as we remember these two weeks as the start of the spreading of the Beloved Community beyond Jesus’ disciples, there was also a waiting period. This was an in-between time, not unlike Holy Saturday—the day between Jesus’ death and his resurrection, a Sabbath day when there was nothing to be done, no outlet for the disciples’ grief or fear.

This time too between Jesus’ ascension and Pentecost was a liminal space. Jesus was no longer among the disciples, but the Holy Spirit had not arrived yet.

I imagine there was some confusion and some grief in this in-between time too, just as there must have been on Holy Saturday. Jesus had risen from the actual dead but only stayed with them for a few more weeks? He gave them instructions, but what did it all actually mean?

Liminal spaces, in-between times, are uncomfortable. We like the security of one thing or the other. But Jesus was asking them to wait.

I tend to get anxious and restless during in-between times. I have a hard time focusing, and I tend to find mindless, repetitive tasks to occupy myself with so that I don’t have to deal with the discomfort.

Perhaps this is an in-between time for you right now. Maybe you’re awaiting a medical procedure or recovering from one. Maybe you’re in an in-between time at work. Maybe you’re considering a move or a career change or a leadership position and an answer just isn’t making itself clear.

It's hard to wait. It’s hard to know what to do with yourself in an in-between time.

What did the disciples do during their in-between time?

They could have hidden out in the upper room like they had after Jesus’ death. Or they could have given in to their impatience and disobeyed Jesus to go out on their own.

But they didn’t. Instead, “they worshiped [Jesus] and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple blessing God.”

They stayed in Jerusalem, and they worshiped God.

This part at the end of Luke reminds me of something at the beginning of Luke that might sound familiar: “The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.”[1]

Jesus’ disciples’ reaction to seeing Jesus ascend was similar to the shepherds’ reaction to seeing baby Jesus in the manger. There’s something about an encounter with Jesus that causes an outburst of joy and praise to God.

The disciples took the liminal time in between Jesus’ ascension and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to rejoice and just spend time enjoying God.

And that’s where the Gospel of Luke ends, with the disciples “continually in the temple blessing God.”

It’s only a breath before the book of Acts begins, by the same author, to the same audience. The two are so closely tied that they’re considered two volumes of the same work, called by scholars “Luke-Acts.”

This liminal moment of joy and praise could be considered the hyphen between the two volumes.

It’s easy to overlook these details and just read ahead into the exciting and powerful stories in Acts. I had never really noticed what the disciples did in the meantime until I looked at this story through the lens of Sabbath.

But it’s meaningful that the disciples spent their time of waiting enjoying God.

For us today, even though God’s presence is all around us, it’s hard for us to find time to just enjoy God.

In an in-between time, it’s easier to access anxiety than joy.

And whether you’re in an in-between time or not, I know you all have a lot going on with working, parenting, grandparenting, caregiving, volunteering, studying, leading in this faith community and elsewhere, and so much more.

That’s enough to raise anyone’s anxiety level.

It’s no wonder it’s hard to find time to spend with God.Even an hour on Sunday mornings can be a struggle. I get it.

We have grind culture breathing down our necks, trying to tell us we’re not enough unless we hustle 24/7, optimize our schedules down to the second, and squeeze every drop of productivity from our exhausted bodies. That’s not healthy or helpful.

So, let’s take a moment to check in with our bodies.

As you feel comfortable, take a couple deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Again, if this feels comfortable to you, turn your head to the side and the other side a few times. Now look straight ahead and tip your head from side to side. And if it feels comfortable, roll your head (not back) just with your nose going from one shoulder to the other. Roll your shoulders if that feels good.

Just that can be enough to ground us in our bodies and in the present moment.

That’s the opposite of what grind culture wants from us, but exactly what God invites us to.

It can and will look different for each of us.

It can, but doesn’t have to, look like reading your Bible or spending time with your hands folded and your head bowed.

It can, but doesn’t have to, look like stargazing or dancing or crying or napping or holding someone’s hand.

What brings you joy or causes you to be in awe?

What places cause you to be in awe?

God is, of course, everywhere, including within you. And also, we humans tend to find the sacred more easily in some places—places of beauty or serenity or connection. T.S. Eliot put it this way, “You are here to kneel / Where prayer has been valid.”[2]

Prayer is, of course, always valid, and the Holy Spirit intercedes for us even when we don’t have the words. But still, there is something significant about connecting to generations before us, standing in aweof the glory of creation, seeking the presence of God in a peaceful place.

I encourage you this week, whether you’re in an in-between time or just the normal busyness of life, to carve out some time to just enjoy God.

Maybe a good place to start would be finding your own place “where prayer has been valid.” Spend some time there—or if it’s too far away or exists only in memory, spend some time visualizing yourself there, making it a sacred internal place you can return to in your mind and heart whenever you need it.

Wherever that place is, spend time there this week, worshiping God with great joy.

[1] Luke 2:20

[2] T.S. Eliot. Four Quartets, “Little Gidding.”

Sermon onJohn 15:9-17

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

This week’s Gospel reading picks up where last week’s left off. The night before Jesus died, he was reassuring his disciples that he would always be as connected to them as a vine is to its branches.

I got a little ahead of myself talking about joy last week, when it doesn’t show up until this week’s reading, but isn’t that the thing about joy? We can’t control it, and sometimes it shows up at unexpected times. Thank you, by the way, to those of you who have emailed me your moments of joy. It brings me joy to read them.

Joy is the fruit of abiding in Jesus and loving each other.

And Jesus continues to explain the connection between him and his disciples. They’re not just students or servants—they’re his friends. He says they’re his friends because he has explained everything to them and that they are to do what he has commanded them.

So, who are Jesus’ friends today?

The criteria Jesus names in our reading are that his friends:

·       Have been taught what the Father made known to Jesus

·       Do what Jesus commands

As far as the first goes, pretty much anyone today who wants them has access to Jesus’ teachings in the form of the Bible. There are about 2.4 billion people who call themselves Christians around the world today.

And as for the second, you might have noticed that we Christians sometimes have very different and even polar opposite ideas of what it means to follow Jesus’ commands.

I heard a joke once that I’m going to adapt for our context:

Sam was hiking one day when he heard cries for help. He ran toward the cries and found a man hanging off the side of a cliff. He was able to help him to safety, and the man, whose name was John, thanked him profusely.

John said, “Thank God for you! You’re such a blessing!”

Sam said, “Oh, so you’re a person of faith! Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I’m a Christian.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I’m a Protestant.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I go to a Lutheran church.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I go to an LCMS church.”

Sam, an ELCA Lutheran, cried out in horror, “You heathen!” And pushed John back off the cliff.

Sometimes those closest to us are the hardest to get along with.

And yet, Jesus commands us to love one another. That’s the commandment he gives in this teaching: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”

How do we do that with people who do and believe things that seem very un-Christ-like, when they would probably say the same about us?

The early Jesus followers in our Acts reading were dealing with questions of belonging and identity and who qualified to be a Jesus follower.

They had their own ideas of what a Jesus follower should look like.

And then the Holy Spirit sent them Cornelius.

He was a Gentile—not of Jewish heritage.

He was a centurion—part of the Roman Empire that had condemned Jesus to death and occupied their land.

And he wanted to hear what Peter had to say.

So, Peter went and told him and the friends and relatives who had gathered with him the story of Jesus, from his baptism to his resurrection.

And while Peter was speaking, “the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word.”

The Jesus followers who had come with Peter were “astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the gentiles.” This was new. These Jewish Jesus followers weren’t quite sure what to do. These Gentiles didn’t fit the idea in their heads of what Jesus followers were like.

But Peter knew what to do. He had had a vision of the extent of the inclusion of the Beloved Community. He saw a sheet with “all kinds of four-footed creatures and reptiles and birds of the air,” and was instructed by a heavenly voice to “kill and eat.”

Peter protested, “By no means, Lord, for I have never eaten anythingthat is profane or unclean.”

The voice replied, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”

Right after this vision, Peter was approached by Cornelius’s messengers, asking him to come and talk to him.

So, when the Holy Spirit fell upon the Gentiles, Peter knew that God was calling them to join the Jesus followers. “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”So, he invited them to be baptized.

Between these people and the Ethiopian official we read about last week, the Beloved Community was stretching beyond what the earliest Jesus followers imagined.

God’s imagination is so much bigger than ours.

It’s easy to get caught up in judging who is the right type of Christian. I’m as guilty of this as anyone else.

Among the 2.4 billion people who call themselves Christians in the world today, there is infinite variety. I’ve met people of other faiths and agnostics and atheists who seem to me to act more Christlike than some Christians.

And still, it’s not my place to judge that.

I’m not saying you have to put up with harmful words or behavior. But so often the world perceives Christians by what we’re against instead of what we’re for.

What if instead we were known for being strong in our convictions, and also humble enough to know that we’re probably wrong about some things?

What if we approached disagreements firm in what we believe and willing to curiously listen to others’ views, not rising to the bait of others’ anger and defensiveness?

What if we as Christians were known for our joy and love—which is what Jesus calls us to in our Gospel reading—instead of fear and anger?

It’s not easy: to be true to ourselves and open to people we think are wrong and even harmful. It involves a lot of self-reflection, time in prayer, and discernment of our boundaries. It might involve putting our reputations on the line or even being willing to lay down our lives for our friends.

But if the earliest Jesus followers were willing to admit that the Beloved Community included people they didn’t immediately see as part of the in-crowd, then maybe we can admit that God’s vision of the Beloved Community is far beyond what we imagine.

Jesuit priest Rick Ganz sent out a meditation this week on the hymn “There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy” that speaks to this.

He writes,

“When mercy is something that we have, which is very often how we speak about it, then mercy will always be about how much we have, or ought to have. We imagine that “mercy” is a kind of thing - an amount of it - which we can distribute if we choose, which having used it (obviously on someone not deserving it) we can feel that we have given enough of it.

And now that we think about it, we begin to perceive that how much mercy we extend to a person is a calculation about how badly, or to what degree, he or she needs it. There is, then, hidden behind our understanding of mercy a confident judgment as to the degree of badness or wrongness of that person. Suddenly we are faced with a mercy – our amount of mercy – that is anything but wide. And suddenly the words of Jesus sting us; we feel their bite –

Matthew 7:  For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.

In God mercy is Who God is; it is not something that God has. It is something essential to the personality of the Triune God, a mode by which we experience God’s love as unconditional.”

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus teaches us to mirror God’s love: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” Let’s also, to the limits of our finite, imperfect ability, try to mirror the wideness of God’s mercy also.

Our joy in God is complete when we love who God loves, and that’s everyone.

Sermon onJohn 15:1-8

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

At first, our Gospel reading sounds nice: an idyllic metaphor of a vine and branches, a vine grower and fruit.

But as the reading goes on, Jesus starts talking about pruning and cleansing and withering and fire. The metaphor turns ominous, and the message seems to become threatening: “bear fruit or else.”

I didn’t grow up in a “fire and brimstone” tradition where the threat of hell was dangled over my head to keep me on my best behavior, but still, I have a hard time not reading this fearfully.

When I read“Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned,” it’s easy to read it as being about individuals who either make the cut to get into heaven or are sent to a fiery afterlife. That concept is so steeped in our culture, from Medieval and Renaissance writers and artists who tried to map out hell to the Puritans who tried to live a strict way of life to please an angry God to many today who stir up zeal for evangelism by teaching people how to “save the souls” of their neighbors, as if it were our work and not God’s.

But if this passage is about heaven and hell, then it sounds like we have to do things to earn our salvation: we have to bear fruit or we can expect to wither and be burned.

But that goes against God’s grace. Ephesians reminds us “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast.”[1]

We don’t have to do anything to be saved—that’s God’s doing. If we’re worrying that we’ve done something wrong or haven’t been bearing enough fruit to get into heaven (or judging our neighbor’s fruit or lack thereof), then we’re making ourselves into God.

We celebrate during Easter that Jesus broke the power of death. So, we can rest in God’s grace, safe in the knowledge that we can’t do anything to make God love us any more or any less.

This Gospel reading is not about earning our way into heaven or finding a way to avoid hell.

It’s about our relationship with Jesus and what follows naturally from that.

Jesus spoke these words the night before he died. He knew what was about to happen, and he was trying to reassure his disciples that he would always be with them.

This wasn’t about warning them to “bear fruit or else.” This was about reminding them of their deep connection with him and how much they had grown by following him for the past three years.

The vineyard isn’t so much a metaphor for heaven as a description of the Beloved Community here and now.

God is the vine grower, who lovingly tends them for abundance and their health. Pruning helps plants become fuller and grow in the right direction. The words “prune” and “cleanse” are related in Greek, so when Jesus said that the disciples had been “cleansed” by the word Jesus had said to them, it means pruned.

While Jesus did say that he is the vine and his disciples are the branches, what if it wasn’t such a precise metaphor? (Peter’s branch is over here, Andrew’s is over here.) What if instead, the community of Jesus followers was represented by all the branches together?

Then, pruning a twig over here isn’t cutting off an individual, but perhaps a part of the ministry of the community that isn’t working. Or something that worked for a while but needs to be let go of to make room for something new to grow.

This congregation has looked very different over the years and has impacted our surrounding community in many different ways at different times. If we insist that everything stays exactly the same, then the vine suffers, because it isn’t allowed to change or grow.

The Beloved Community is full of fruit because of the careful tending of the vine grower, and it is grounded in Jesus the vine. The vine nourishes the branches and draws nutrients from the soil of creation. You can’t have the vine without the branches or the branches without the vine. And while, yes, things can grow in the wild without someone to tend them, the vine is more fruitful with the vine grower who shapes it and cares for it.

Instead of a fire and brimstone threat, this metaphor becomes a picture of a healthy, abundant community that bears fruit for the sake of others.

And we get to be a part of that. Safe and secure in God’s love for us, we as part of the Beloved Community bear fruit. It’s what a plant does—it’s part of how God created our beautiful world.

And yes, the vine grower is working to make the vine bear more fruit, but it’s not the type of productivity our society values. It’s not the grind culture that leads to burnout.

Instead, it’s the abundance that comes from community. Its fruits are love and peace and justice and joy. That fruit doesn’t come from working ourselves to the bone. It comes from depending on each other, having honest conversations, looking out for each other’s well-being.

It is Jubilee. It is the way of Sabbath.It is God’s shalom.

These, like any good fruit, take time and patience.

So, what’s a small way we can bear fruit this week?

Not out of fear and not even really by our own power, because God fosters abundance in us.

Let’s share our joy.

We started out our Sabbath theme of 2024 with learning about Sabbath, then we tried on some restful Sabbath practices during Lent. Now, in the season of Easter, we can share some of the joy ripening in us from letting our bodies, minds, spirits, and communities rest.

Hopefully by slowing down a little, you’re noticing more things that bring you joy.

Joy is different from happiness.Brene Brown defines joy as “an intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation.”[2] She admits that a research-based consensus on what defines happiness is harder to find, but she defines happiness as “feeling pleasure often related to the immediate environment or current circumstances.”[3]

We could, and probably will at some point, delve deeper into joy vs. happiness, but for now, let me just say that joy is something deeper than happiness that can be experienced even during very difficult times in our lives.

We can experience joy apart from being happy. It’s worth noting that “joy” is listed as one of the fruits of the Spirit in Galatians, but “happiness” is not.[4] That’s not to say that happiness is bad—on the contrary—but there’s something deeper about joy.

So, when I say we are focusing on sharing our joy in this season, I am not saying we have to paste on a happy face for the sake of convincing our neighbors that once we start following Jesus we don’t have problems anymore.

Considering what Jesus went through the day after our Gospel reading, he would be the first to admit that the way of the Beloved Community is not easy and may not bring happiness. But there is still joy in God to be experienced even amid the hard things of this life.

So, in the spirit of sharing our joy, I want to start including a section at the bottom of our weekly announcement email all about joy. I’ll start us off for the first week or two, and then I’ll start inviting you to share what’s bringing you joy.

It doesn’t need to be long—just a sentence or two.

It doesn’t have to be earth-shattering—perhaps an everyday moment that made you pause with gratitude.

Here are a few of mine this week:

1.    Seeing some sunflower sprouts pop up in my garden

2.    Watching my cat chase a bug while I was writing this sermon

3.    Listening to the great discussion during last week’s book study

Like I said, I’ll start us off this week, but start noticing what’s bringing you joy. I’ll be in contact with you soon enough.

But let’s not stop at the newsletter. Let’s share our joy with each other and those we encounter in our daily lives. The more attentive we are to joy, the more we’ll experience it. And the more we share it with others, the more they can notice joy in their lives. That is a way the fruit of the Beloved Community grows.

So, rest assured that Jesus our vine abides in us and us in him.

Let the joy of that relationship bear fruit.

And be sure to share that joy with those around you.

[1]Ephesians 2:8-9

[2] Brown, Brene. Atlas of the Heart,p. 205.

[3] Brown, 207.

[4]Galatians 5:22-23