The Day of the Lord

Our reading from the Old Testament is from Zephaniah 1:7,12-18, a book which probably was composed around 630 BCE after an era where the worship of multiple gods supplanted the worship of God. Zephaniah is encouraging the king of his time, Josiah, to throw out that worship and commit the nation to the worship of the one true God. And it is in this hostile environment where we hear Zephaniah talk about the day of the Lord.

The day of the Lord is mentioned all over the prophets. My personal favorite exposition of the phrase is in Joel. Both Joel and Zephaniah imagine the day of the Lord as something that is coming very soon. The day of the Lord is different from contemporary images of what the “end times” will look like. There will be no war or great battle between good and evil. God, as supreme ruler, cannot be competed with. God will merely cast judgement. The day will be a day of wrath, violence, and incredible sorrow because, as Zephaniah states, “they have sinned against the Lord.”

But this wrath, for Zephaniah, is directed towards one set of people: those who are indifferent to God and God’s wants in the world. And what is it that God wants? Justice. Love. Healed relationships. God isn’t indifferent to the world. God is active in it, moving through us and the world, helping us to love our neighbors, heal our friends, and raise up the strangers in our midst so that their life is full and filled. God loves us – and we are called to love everyone too.

To look at the day of the Lord and focus only on the wrath and violence is to see only half of the story. The other half tells us what God is looking for. Eric Mathis writes, “The day of the Lord is the day when indifference will no longer be tolerated. The day of the Lord is the day when, out of blood and ashes and flesh and dung, will, in fact, come something good: the promise of a future where God reigns over all people and all things.” God’s future is our future. Let’s live into that.

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for 23rd Sunday After Pentecost, 11/16/2014.

Thoughts on Heaven

We hosted a movie night at Christ Lutheran Church tonight where we showed “Heaven is for Real.” After the movie, I shared a short reflection on heaven and a thirty minute discussion with the 27 folks in attendance. Here’s the script that I prepared (but didn’t necessarily follow).

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So, after this movie showing was scheduled on the calendar, I was asked to share some thoughts about heaven. So consider this my scripted take on “heaven” and, after this, we’ll have a short talk-back about the film where I would love to hear your thoughts on the movie, on heaven, on your experiences, etc.

But before I can get to heaven, I need to share a little bit about me. My name is Marc Stutzel, I’m brand new here at Christ Lutheran, brand new to New Jersey, and brand new to being a pastor too. I was officially ordained as a pastor just last Saturday and my first day here at Christ was October 1st. I moved out here to New Jersey at the end of June and graduated from seminary in May. So I’m new to this place – I’m new to being called Pastor Marc – I’m new to being the resident theologian of a church. I’m new to being asked questions like “what is heaven?” but I’m not new in wanting answers to questions like these. The title of our movie tonight is an answer to that question – it’s a matter-o-fact statement that Heaven is Real. It exists and it’s a place.

Now, in this church, we read the bible in a translation called the New Revised Standard version and if you search for the word “heaven” – it appears over 600 times. Early references to heaven describe it as a place distinct from what we experience. The very first verse says “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth‚Ķ” and Genesis goes on to describe heaven in some kind of vertical relationship with us. Heaven is “up there,” away from us, distant – but not so distant that we can’t see it or be influenced by it. The stars, moon, and sun are in heaven (Deut 4:19)…when God promises that Abram’s descendants will be numberless, God asks Abram to count “the stars in heaven.” (Gen 15:5) God is also described as the “Lord of heaven and earth” (Gen 24:3) and during the Exodus, manna comes down from heaven to feed the people in the wilderness (Ex. 16:4). As we move along, we hear of there being something called “the heavens of heaven” (Deut 10:14) which also belong to God. When Solomon builds the first temple in Jerusalem, he describes heaven as a place that can’t even contain God – so how could this little building on earth contain God as well?(1 Kings 8:27) Solomon continues his prayer at the Temple by describing heaven as “God’s dwelling place.” Both the book of Job and the Psalms continue to expand on this vision of heaven as place – but as a place that is bigger than our experience, comprehension, and a place that can’t even contain God. There are even words of God being exalted OVER heaven (Ps 57:11). In Isaiah, we hear God say that “Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is my resting place?” (Is 66:1) Heaven is also described as a place that is filled with beings. When we hear the phrase in scripture “the hosts of heaven,” we need to know that what is being described is “the army of heaven.” So Heaven might be vast but it is not empty.

Now, I know I’m being quick and not very indepth – but I get the sense that the writers of scripture seem to have a sense of heaven as a place distinct from the earth – a place where God dwells but that does not contain or bound God to only one location. God is still able to interact and get involved here on earth.

Now, when we look at the New Testament – we see heaven mentioned all the time. Heaven is indeed a place – it’s a kingdom – but it’s a kingdom that’s on the move. Right off the bat, we have John the Baptist saying “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Heaven is described as a place that we can enter into, some place we will get to in the future, a place where we can gain and stockpile treasure. Jesus loves starting parables with the phrase “the kingdom of heaven is like” – for example, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field” or like “a merchant in search of fine pearls” or “like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind” or “like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed”. So heaven is a place – Jesus even describes heaven as we would describe the sky – a place where rain comes from. So heaven is described as a physical place but also as a kingdom – a place with beings, a ruler, a government of some type – but this kingdom doesn’t seem static. It moves. It makes its impact felt right now – intersecting into this earth, burrowing into our lives, right now. John’s gospel, out of the four, is the most explicit about this. We hear of Jesus coming down from Heaven – John’s gospel much more reinforces this up-and-down, vertical relationship between earth and heaven and that Jesus moves from one to the other. One lens we can use to expand on this vertical dimension of heaven is to see through the lens of baptism – to see when Jesus is baptized that the heavens opened – a dove descended – and a voice came down – and that the heavens are still open. We can continue this theme of openness through Matthew when, after Jesus is crucified, the curtain in the temple that sealed off where God’s presence was fully felt and experienced – the holy of holies – is broken. We can see that as God’s presence has been removed from the Temple or that God’s real presence can no longer be seen as in only one place.

Now, in the beginning of Acts, we hear that Jesus ascends into heaven – there’s some famous art in the world where you have the disciples staring up into the sky and, at the top of the painting or statue or wood carving, you just have a couple of feet hanging up there. We hear about Peter having a dream where animals descend from Heaven. We hear about visions of Jesus being seen standing next to the Father in heaven. Paul is blinded by a light from heaven. And we also hear Paul describe his own trip to heaven and of another believer’s trip to “the third heaven” – whatever that is. And the book of Revelation is framed as a vision and trip to heaven.

So I went through quickly what scripture says about heaven as a place – and scripture spends a lot of time talking about heaven as a place. It has dimension, it’s physical, it has a vastness that cannot even contain God. But we can also see heaven being some kind of force – a movement – reminding me of the Holy Spirit or when God’s breath moved over the waters at creation – Jesus’ favorite use of the word heaven is to imagine heaven as a place that breaks into the world right now. And, if I’m honest, I’ll admit that my analysis here is just on the surface. There’s a lot more to heaven than just this short reflection can contain.

But I think there’s another component to heaven that’s important, and that’s what we bring to the conversation.

Now, I told you all earlier that I just graduated from seminary – and, well, in seminary, I didn’t take a class on heaven. Heaven wasn’t on the radar. And when I reached out to colleagues of mine about what to dig into to prepare for tonight, I didn’t get many responses. My experience among Lutheran clergy – us who are religious professionals – is that we don’t dig into heaven as a place very much. But we do deal with heaven everyday.

Let me explain.

As a religious professional, we deal with death – a lot. We witness and experience pain and loss. We experience broken hearts, broken lives, and broken relationships. We see, name, and identify hurt because that’s part of our job.

Now, even though I’m new, I’ve been in rooms where I’ve watched people take their last breath. I’ve seen children and adults, old and very young, die for a variety of reasons. I’ve seen families cry and shed tears, I’ve seen families fight with each other over how the funeral should be arranged, and I’ve seen deaths bring living people together and tear living people apart. I’ve seen hope vanish from the face of people and seen hope and love come back into their faces. I’ve seen restoration – I’ve seen people who’s lives have been destroyed through violence, addiction, economics and whatever – and I’ve seen them flourish. I’ve seen them come back to life – I’ve seen them resurrected.

And it’s because of all of that – because of my experience of seeing hope end and also begin, of witnessing death and resurrection – that I, like that movie title, believe that Heaven is For Real.

Now, if I went into specifics – and we’ll have time to talk about specifics – I wouldn’t agree with the details of the book or movie that we saw tonight. There’s something about it that is too comfortable for me and not hopeful enough. Both the book and the movie tend to focus on areas of faith or questions of faith that I don’t necessarily find meaningful or lifegiving to me. I don’t care about Jesus’ eyes, for example, nor do I think about angels singing to me much. I think the movie spends a lot of time focusing on the place of heaven rather than on the experience of heaven. And what I mean by that is that I tend to find Jesus’ use of heaven as life-giving. Heaven, for Jesus, is a place. It’s real. But heaven is also a movement – an experience – something that happens and happens to us. And Jesus models that in his parables, in his use of the words “the kingdom of heaven,” and in his practice and ministry. He models the kingdom of heaven coming near – and calls us to that ministry as well. Heaven is real but heaven isn’t distant. It has come near and we are in its beginning.

As a Lutheran Christian, I’d be remiss if I didn’t name drop Martin Luther once and so I’ll end this with something he said that, I think, illustrates this vision of heaven as a movement – as an experience – as something that impacts our lives here and now. He said “Eternal life begins here, in our hearts; for when we begin to believe in Christ, after we have been baptized, then, according to faith and the Word, we are liberated from death, from sin, and from the devil.” Eternal life begins now. Heaven begins now. And we’re called to live that life out.

Between Now and Tomorrow

‘Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, “Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.” Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, “Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.” But the wise replied, “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replied, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.” Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Matthew 25:1-13

My sermon from 22nd Sunday After Pentecost (November 9, 2014) on Matthew 25:1-13. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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“Keep awake….” that’s that start of our last line from Matthew today. “Keep awake – for you know neither the day or the hour.”

I don’t know about you, but whenever someone tells me to keep awake, to be alert, to be ready, I get a little anxious. I get a little concerned that maybe I’m not ready, maybe I’m not prepared for what’s to come. Even though I’m no longer a student in school, I still suffer from those nightmares, you know the ones, where we’re in highschool and it’s finals week and we walk into class for a test we’re totally not prepared for. Or, sometimes, I find myself having to take a final for a class I didn’t even know I was registered for until that last day. Every time I have these nightmares, I wake up to find myself a little sweaty, my heart kinda pounding, and the rest of the day just feels incredibly unsettled. So when I hear these words from Jesus about being ready – about being alert – I have flashbacks to those nightmares – to that anxiety – and I wonder, in this parable, just what can I stand on?

Because when we dig into the parable, a lot of odd things pop out. We have ten bridesmaids who are sent out to meet a bridegroom. They all have lamps and they’re suppose to meet this guy and escort him back to the party. So they all get to the prearranged meeting spot and – … – the bridegroom is not there. So these ten bridesmaids wait…and wait…and wait. They wait so long, they all just fall asleep.

But then, in the middle of the night, they hear a shout that the bridegroom is on his way. They wake up, get ready to escort this guy to the party, when five of them notice that they don’t have enough oil to keep their lamps lit. They ask to borrow some oil from the others but they’re refused. So these five bridesmaids without oil leave to go buy some and while they’re gone, the bridegroom arrives and he and the five remaining bridesmaids head to the party. The five without oil buy what they need and head back to the party, only to discover that the bridegroom not only left them, he’ll no longer let them in. They’re locked outside the party forever.

So, what gets me about all of this is that there isn’t anyone in this parable that I can really get behind. First, we have a bridegroom who is late to his own party and he doesn’t even apologize for being late. His lateness is the reason the oil runs low for some and we have no idea why he’s late. Second, when the bridesmaids are getting ready, the wise – those who brought extra oil – they not only refuse to share, they convince the other five to leave their meeting place and go out to buy more oil. When they leave, the bridegroom arrives and instead of waiting for the other bridesmaids to return – which might be the nice thing to do – they all just take off. Even the wise bridesmaids don’t tell the bridegroom to wait – they just all get up and go. There are plenty of opportunities in this story for a little patience, a little forgiveness, a little thoughtfulness – but when I share this story with my toddler, who do I want him to be like? Like the ones who don’t have enough oil, or the ones who won’t share, or the bridegroom who is late and doesn’t seem to wait? All we seem to get, really, is one set of bridesmaids labeled wise, another set labeled foolish, and we’re left wondering where we are in all of this. Are we wise? Are we foolish? When we head to God’s great party, are we going to be let in or are we gonna be stuck on the outside, knocking on that door forever?

Now, this parable is a story – it moves – and it brings us somewhere. But these last words from Jesus – “keep awake…” – they occur after the parable ends. They are, in one verse, Jesus’ exposition of what this parable means. We’re left at the end with a locked door, a party on one side, and a group of bridesmaids talking to the bridegroom on the other. Now, we can focus on that ending – on that locked door – on what that party on the otherwise is like – but maybe Jesus’ words provide us with an opportunity to take a step back and see this parable from another angle.

Those words – keep awake – now, there’s only one part of the parable that has anything doing with wakefulness or sleepiness. And it occurs before the bridegroom is met, before the oil runs out, before the bridesmaids don’t share or send each other away. Before the real nastiness of the parable begins, we find our ten bridesmaids all gathered together, at the expected place – waiting and waiting and waiting. Before their actions can define them as either wise or as foolish, they are all standing there together, waiting for their bridegroom to come – with their lamps ready.

And then they fall asleep.

It’s easy, I find, in our faith lives, to be asleep. Wise, or foolish, there are moments we all share when the experiences of our lives devour our faith. On top of the moments of pain and loss that we experience, we also have those little moments – those everyday moments – that cause our spirituality to be put on the backburner. We’ve all got too much to do and not enough time to do it. Rushing to get our kids to school, to the next activity, to get ourselves to the office, or the next job, or just to the next project or problem to solve – it’s easy to just blow past our faith life – to be, in a sense, too busy for faith. And as that next project, next responsibility, next priority, takes our focus, time, and energy, our faith life slowly goes dormant. Our prayers to God become shorter. Our time in worship becomes less. Our stories to one another about our experiences with God become quiet. We find ourselves going full speed forward, wise or foolish, old or young, onto the next thing and letting our time with God fall by the wayside.

It’s hard to think of ourselves as needing to be awoken when we’re so busy, we never have time to sleep – but Jesus’ words – to keep awake – isn’t about being roused from our slumber but to be mindful that we have already been awoken. Like those bridesmaids, we have been invited out, to go meet the bridegroom and, in our baptism, to remember that we have already been claimed by God. We have already been gifted the beginning of faith. We’ve already been given the spark needed to stay awake.

And as beloved children of God, we’re called to a state of active wakefulness. It’s a call to pay attention to God, to pay attention to ourselves, to pay attention that our wholeness rests not in how many items we get off our bucket list or how many unique check-ins we make on Facebook that makes our friends jealous – Jesus’ words are a reminder that our faith life, our life with God, needs engagement, needs focus, needs time. When we focus too much on the the end of the parable, on that locked door, we forgot about that middle part – that waiting. We skip over the time in the parable and just rush to get to that final event – to that next project – we end up doing what we always do – rushing through the parable rather than living with it. Jesus’ words are a reminder that our life as beloved children of God is less about the completing of tasks or checks on a checklist – but more about living into God’s activity, God’s future, and as one commentator said, more about actively living into the expectation that God will make all things new.

The Christian life is a waiting life. Stirred by God’s grace, we are pointed to the next big thing, to the promise that God will, and does, make all things new. But we’re not called to a passive waiting or a rushed waiting either – no, we’re called to be awake – to be like those bridesmaids while they wait – gathered with each other before the bridegroom, before God, with our lamps lit, ready to be fed by God and ready to respond to God’s call to gather into the world, into the darkness, into places where we might be incredibly uncomfortable – and to carry Christ’s light of love, mercy, care, and forgiveness.

We are called to be Christ’s light in the world – a light that burns brightly – but one that is constantly fueled, charged, and ready to engage with whoever and whatever comes our way. That doesn’t mean that we’ll always be faithful or that we’ll never doubt or that we’ll never forget to say our daily prayers – but it does mean that we don’t let apathy or habit or distance from our faith keep us from seeing what God is doing in our lives. When we open the bible and read, we are trusting in God’s wakefulness. When we share our faith life with our children and pass our faith down to them, we are participating in that active expectation that God isn’t done with us yet. Forgiving sins, sharing in the body and blood of Christ, baptizing children and adults into the church – we are resting firmly on that hope – on that call from Jesus to be awake – to be prepared – to keep making time for our faith because God continues to make time for us. So, wise or foolish, with oil or without, and even if we feel like we’re heading into our highschool classroom to take a test we never studied for or never even knew we had – we go awake. We go in hope. We go in faith that God is making all things new. “Keep Awake” – Jesus says – because God isn’t done with us yet.

Amen.

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Not the Rapture

I’m a big fan of First Thessalonians. Most scholars see this letter as the first piece of Christian writing that we have. Written around 50 CE, the letter tells us that Paul founded a community of believers in the capital of the Roman province ofMacedonia, Thessalonike. Paul was there only maybe a few month but he gathered together a group of Gentile (non-Jewish) believers in Jesus. When he left, probably heading to Corinth, the small community was flourishing and faithful. While in Corinth, a member of the community at Thessalonike named Timothy visited Paul, telling him all about what was happening back home. Timothy brought Paul words of thankfulness and love but the community had a problem. They were looking for an answer to a big question. Members of their community had died and the Thessalonians didn’t know how to handle it. They were concerned that their dead brothers and sisters had somehow missed out on salvation because they died before Jesus had come back. Was heaven and God’s love no longer available to them now that they were dead? Would Jesus pass them over or not see them when he returns? The community in Thessalonike not only were mourning for the loss of their friends, they were also fearful of their friends’ future.

Paul hears what Timothy says and writes a letter in response. His words are gentle, kind, loving, and, above all, are encouraging. Paul tells the Thessalonians that those who have died are not lost. They have not missed out on the promise of Jesus. They have not, somehow, lost access to God. No, the ones who have died are fully caught up in Jesus’ loving arms and Jesus is not letting go.

This text from First Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18) has been used to justify the “rapture,” a vision of the end of the world where “good Christians” somehow escape the world before Jesus returns. But Paul isn’t talking about escape in his letter. Escaping never enters his mind. Instead, Paul is talking about living (and dying) in the world right now. He’s telling his beloved community that grieving is okay, that the darkness that can come from sudden losses is part of our life, but that we are, first and foremost, a community rooted in a hope and love that even death cannot break. What matters in this text is not our being “caught up in the clouds” but, rather, that Jesus “will descend from heaven,” into our lives, worship, and communion, in a million different ways. Not even death can keep us away from God’s love. Jesus is running into the world and not away from it – and that truly is good news!

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for 2nd Sunday After Pentecost, 11/09/2014.

From Pastor Marc – My Message for the Messenger, November 2014 Edition

Generous Thankfulness

As a new face here at Christ, every day is a day full of discovery. In each conversation I learn more about the people that make Christ Lutheran Church the warm and inviting place that it is. I hear stories how personal invitations from family and friends grew our community. Baptisms, marriages, Sunday School, Confirmations and funerals have been avenues of love to those who didn’t have a community to call their own. I hear in Christ Lutheran’s story a story of invitation, hospitality and welcome that does the very rare thing of inviting new people to help us change to more fully live as the body of Christ in the world. There is a generosity here at Christ Lutheran that is boundless, reflecting the boundless grace that God gives us every day.

November is a time when the leaves finish falling from the trees, giant piles of turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce from a can are shared, the days are cooler, and when we start to notice the days getting way too short. But as the darkness grows we’re invited to reflect on what God goes. We are a people who proclaim every Sunday that darkness does not win. The light will return. God’s generosity to us is bounded not by our wants but by God’s love which covers us every day. In thankfulness, November is a time to take risks with our own generosity. I invite you to help the Care committee provide food so everyone can share in the Thanksgiving dinner they deserve. I invite you to make a financial pledge to Christ Lutheran, helping us expand our generosity to children, youth, adults, elders and our neighbors whom we haven’t met yet. I invite you to help clean up after our Advent dinner, invite a friend to our movie showcase on November 11, read your bible and take a few minutes out of each day to pray. Even if the only time you have is waiting at a traffic light, I invite you to take a moment and say “Hi” to God. You might just discover how God is inviting you to live generously today.

Pastor Marc

The After Party

Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

John 8:31-36/blockquote>

My sermon from Reformation Sunday. (October 26, 2014) on John 8:31-36.

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BAPTIZE ALL THE BABIES

Today I presided over my first baptism as a pastor. There are pictures to prove it.

For future reference, I need to practice pouring water while using a seashell. Poor kid ended up with water in his eyes.

Pastor Marc presiding

Pastor Marc, Baptism

Why Reformation Sunday?

Why Reformation Sunday?

Many Lutheran churches across the world are celebrating the “birth” of the Reformation. Martin Luther, a monk living in Germany and teaching at the local university, was disturbed by practices in the local church. He saw the church being a hindrance to God’s love and mercy rather than dispensing that love and mercy to those who needed it most. His experiences didn’t match fully with what he saw, what he learned, and what he taught. This struggle led him to reach out to his local university community. He wanted to talk about his experiences and thoughts with his local professors. Using the practices of his day, Luther wrote 95 statements (called theses) and posted them to the public bulletin board of his day: the front doors of his local university church. Luther was using the Facebook, Twitter, and social media tools of his day. What he expected was a few professors to respond back. What he didn’t expect was the firestorm that followed. This firestorm gave birth to the Lutheran church – an understanding of Christianity that leads to all of us gathered at Christ Lutheran Church today.

Now, 497 years later, many are wondering why we still celebrate this day. We don’t live in Germany, we aren’t monks from the 15th century, and the questions Luther faced are not necessarily the questions we face today. Luther was a person of his era, a prolific writer who wrote beautifully, faithfully, spiritually. He was a man of God. He also said many things that I wish he didn’t, including anti-Jewish tracts that we condemn fully and loudly. So how can this man who lived in a very different time help us today? How can his experience of God help our journey of faith as people with cars, smartphones, Twitter, Hondas, and reality TV?

And that question is why Reformation Day still matters. Luther’s legacy is more than just a set of unchanging thoughts about God, faith, and Jesus that we just happen to share. His true legacy rests in his willingness to continue a long tradition of engaging faith with experience, of keeping Jesus central rather than distant, and always seeing the Cross as an entrance to God rather than as an escape from God. Lutheran Christianity is a questioning Christianity. We are a people who proudly struggle with Jesus’ question to the disciple: “Who do you say that I am?” That question is our question. That question is a question we’ll always struggle with and we’ll never fully express all that our answer means. But that’s okay. We’re Lutheran Christians which means we aren’t finished yet. We are always being changed. We are always being reformed. So just how is God you, me, and all of us to be reformed?

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for 10/26/2014.