“But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,
Matthew 11:16-19,25-30
‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
we wailed, and you did not mourn.’
“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”
At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
My sermon from the 6th Sunday after Pentecost Sunday (July 5, 2026) on Matthew 11:16-19,25-30.
On January 21st, 1776, in the small town of Woodstock, Virginia, a 29 year old pastor was about to step into a pulpit. This pastor, Peter Muhlenberg, was the son of Henry Melchoir Muhlenberg, whose ministry is why we have a Lutheran Church in the United States in the first place. Peter, after growing up in Pennsylvania, was sent at the age of 16 to further his education in Germany. He wasn’t that interested in school and after the school threatened to expel him, he immediately signed up with a British infantry unit visiting in the area. After a season with the Brits and with a local German dragoon unit, Peter returned home. He went back to school, graduated from what is now the University of Pennsylvania, and followed his father into ministry. And after serving as a Lutheran pastor in Bedminster, New Jersey, he felt drawn towards a new town being established in the Shenandoah Valley. Woodstock was primarily settled by German Lutherans who were originally from Pennsylvania. They wanted a religious leader who spoke their language and shared their identity but the colony of Virginia required all pastors within its borders to be ordained by the church of England. Peter, then, left for England in 1772, was ordained a priest, and returned to Woodstock to serve a Lutheran congregation masquerading as an Episcopalian church. Over the next few years, Peter became active in local politics, served in the state legislature, and when the Continental Army was formed in 1775, Pastor Mulhenberg was made a colonel and authorized to raise and command the 8th Virginia regiment. We can imagine all of this caused a bit of conflict within his congregation since not everyone wanted to break with England. In fact, even his own family was split with his father remaining a loyalist throughout the war. We can imagine that when Peter entered that pulpit, he was filled with a lot of excitement, worry, confidence, and fear. And the text he used for his sermon was that famous bit from the third chapter of Ecclesiastes: “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to break down and a time to build up.” And after delivering a fiery word outlining some religious justification for the revolution that was to come, he ended his sermon by saying in German: “In the language of Holy Writ, there is a time for all things, a time to preach and a time to pray. There is a time to fight, and that time [has] now come.” After a short prayer, he left the pulpit and moved down the center aisle. And as he walked, he removed his clerical robes to reveal a military uniform underneath. Peter would eventually serve at the battles of Brandywine, Monmouth, and Yorktown, before retiring as a Major General at the end of the war. And when the Constitution was eventually ratified a few years later, he served in the House of Representatives and also as a Senator. The community he served in Woodstock – Emanuel Lutheran Church – is still there and I believe a stained glass window depicting this cinematic highlight of his life illuminates the pulpit. Even if we’ve never heard Peter’s story before, it fits a weekend when we celebrate the 250th anniversary of the declaration that all are created equal. This highlight of Peter’s life is a moment that stirs our souls. And yet it is a moment that, most likely, isn’t entirely true.
Now we have a lot of documentation related to Peter’s life. There’s letters, government papers, orders, memoirs, and articles from the newspaper. But the story about him revealing his military uniform while in church doesn’t show up until his great grand nephew published a biography about Peter 75 years later. There’s no doubt Peter raised a regiment, served the entire length of the war, and preached a farewell sermon at Woodstock on Ecclesiastes chapter 3. But the moment that would be the highlight of our moments was probably invented years later. Asking why it was created is very important and might be related to what was happening in the years leading up to 1849. Immigration into the United States from Europe had grown and people, as well as political parties, were suspicious of these folks who were coming from somewhere else. With the rise of so many who wanted to keep the Irish, Germans, and Catholics out of the country, those who traced their ancestry back to these so-called enemy regions felt a need to explain their contributions to American society. Peter Muhlenberg – as well as his brother Frederick who was the first speaker of the House of Representatives – are the perfect kind of candidates to explain how Germans and Lutherans have always been a part of the American story. We don’t know when the Mulhenberg family added this spicy highlight to the stories they shared about Peter or when they started downplaying the other bits of his background that were a bit more problematic. He, especially in his later years, was regularly asked to resign from the positions he was elected to and he also believed the Bible gave him permission to own slaves for their so-called benefit. Peter, though, became a symbol of liberty at a time when what it meant to be an American was regularly being fought over. And choosing to embellish the highlights of life by making them more dramatic and cinematic is, I think, a very human thing to do. It’s what we do when we’re busy sharing stories about ourselves, our families, and even our country during times of celebration and conflict. And what we wish to share is a vision for a life so well lived that there’s never a need for nuance, context, or questions.
Yet I wonder if Jesus, in today’s words from the gospel according to Matthew, wants us to remember how it’s our whole story – not just its highlights – that matters to God. He began by pointing out how our expectations often limit who we expect ourselves – and others – to be. People assumed that when God showed up, it would be in such a way that everyone could see. The community, though, didn’t even agree about what the Messiah might do or even what they might look like. But many looked at the ministry of John the Baptist and Jesus and say that’s isn’t God’s work at all. God’s presence should be like fireworks and not as subtle as a cup of cold water shared with a child who is thirsty in the desert. Jesus, however, invited those around him to look at more than simply the impact of his ministry. He also invited them to recognize how our biases, expectations, and context shape who we want God to be. And while it would be awesome for God to be very cinematic when God shows up, God chooses to let God’s kingdom be revealed through the work of welcome, hospitality, healing, wholeness, and love. That kind of work isn’t always cinematic since it requires time, patience, and a willingness to be changed by the people God brings our way. But a God who has already chosen to be with you will always care about more than the parts of your lives a great grandnephew might choose to embellish 75 years into the future. God is always more than any of our expectations. And a God who lived, died, and rose for you promises that you are worth more than every other expectation too.
Amen.