Dead Prayers

In general, other than at a funeral close to the time of death, I do not say prayers for people who are already dead. I pray for the grieving, for those who continue to mourn, for those with unspoken pain, for the currently dying, for caregivers, for those with vocations surrounding the realities of death, for those tending to the many tasks that come with death. All of that, yes, but almost never directly for people who are long dead. 

That changed this summer as I visited cemeteries, happened upon graveyards, viewed countless war memorials, paid my respects where markers had worn away, and stood in places where blood watered fields. 

I went to the cemetery that holds the mass graves and some individual plots for the victims of the Lusitania disaster. I wept at markers for the dead of the Great War (WW1) and the Second World War and stood quietly at markers for the lost in individual battles. 

My son and I read through names on a memorial marker to the enslaved workers at Catoctin Iron Furnace, looking into the rippled ground under the trees where no markers still stand. 

We walked among marble and granite markers at Gettysburg and at other battlefields, where even unknown dead are acknowledged. 

In Iceland and in northern Scotland, I saw the many markers for children who died so young from things we can now prevent with vaccines. If we want to. One of the saddest sights for me will always be the tombstone of a man who outlived his beloved wife and children. By years. There are often many things we take for granted that he would have given anything to have. 

The Mule Shoe Salient at Spotsylvania is where I finally walked into the woods and cried so hard that I choked on my tears. It was not the first place I cried nor the last, but the air there is not peaceful. And I was finally exhausted, not from travel, but from the accumulation of sites and information about people who would rather die than let someone else be free. 

And this is where I tell you that early in these travels, in a very un-Lutheran way, I began to pray for the repose of souls, for light perpetual to shine on the dead, for those who died in bondage or pain to receive the deepest renewal of God’s peace. 

Theologically, I believe people are already at rest in God’s care. 

Psychologically, though, it was easier to pray for the dead than to pray that the living would learn from history. It was easier to pray for perpetual grace for those already gone than to pray that the folks who currently walk the earth would open their minds, soften their hearts, and love their neighbors in word and deed. War monument after war monument, battlefield after battlefield, tiny marker after tiny marker, it was easier to speak to the Divine about the dead than to, once again, plead for a world where we truly intend to do for one another what Jesus would have us do. 

I have rarely, if ever, taken the easier way in my life, but I did in these recent moments. It was just easier than accepting that we haven’t learned, we haven’t changed, and maybe we don’t want to. I won’t quit my work and I won’t quit praying, but I hope that someday someone will pray for me. Easy rest comes from God. Because there are people who will disturb it if they think they can. 

Tools from Jesus

Note of caution: The opening story for this sermon touches very briefly on infant loss.  

Grace and peace to you, friends, from the God who sustains us and maintains our connections, through the Holy Spirit, across the miles that separate us. We in Big Timber pray for you this morning and we welcome your prayers for us. 

Almost 14 years ago, when I still lived in Alaska, I was in two very different online groups. One was for women expecting babies in January 2013. Connected through a larger website, we encouraged and supported one another through the experience of pregnancy and early motherhood. 

The other group was a very large, international group for women clergy. This group had existed for years, shifting with the internet, and continued as a su
pport group, sharing resources and even meeting in-person in small groups and for big events. 

In December 2012, a tragedy occurred in my January baby group when one woman went into labor early. The baby turned out to have an unexpected genetic abnormality and passed away very shortly after birth. We were all devastated for our friend. 

As I texted with another mom from the baby group, we lamented how far away we were. I was in Alaska, texting with someone in Minnesota. Our friend was in a third state altogether. I asked if our friend had a pastor or someone who might come for support. 

The Minnesota lady reported that our friend didn’t and said the only pastor she would want was me. I couldn’t get there. No one from our baby group could, but I knew where to find a pastor who might be able to be there. 

In my clergy group, I reached out and asked the three pastors who lived that city if any of them could go to the hospital to offer a blessing and support. One could and did. In the story of a terrible day, two strangers met in person, in a hospital room, and one received help and consolation. 

What does this story have to do with anything? I think of this story each time someone says that the internet is a terrible place. It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. It has been and can still be a place of connection, a place for hope and help, a place where real people reach out and are not alone in their worst moments. 

The internet is a tool, and we decide how to use. And we must decide each time. 

The exact same truth applies to the tool Jesus offers us in Matthew. Throughout this section of Matthew, Jesus expresses concern for how the community of believers will use the tools of fellowship and truth-telling. The community has to opportunity to use these gifts to pay attention to the marginalized, to stop harm, to protect children and other vulnerable members, to speak up and speak out. 

Jesus offers a tool for discipline- not a punishment, but for correction and for restoration to fellowship. The process for speaking to an individual, first, one-on-one offers followers of Jesus a chance to hear one another and, if necessary, to make repair and restitution. It can happen but rarely is one party completely right and the other, completely wrong. 

Jesus’ guidance for correcting harm in the community goes further when a group is needed to be brought as compassionate witnesses to a confrontation. I realize this is a nightmare scenario for many of us- the very word “confrontation” can make some folks very uncomfortable. 

Jesus does not mean an aggressive fight, but a private meeting that has been prayed for and prayed through and has a clear goal, in keeping with the larger mission of the fellowship. Using this tool from our Savior requires everyone present to have a soft heart and an open mind. 

This passage is longest section of scripture cited in our Lutheran constitutions at all levels- congregational, synod, and churchwide. It is a process we are supposed to follow when there is a real, serious issue in the congregation. There is not a flaw in the tool. 

Sometimes, however, the flaw is us. On occasion, church folks “solve” a problem through gossip, anonymous letters, or social pressure. Sometimes we, as the church, ignore a problem because we hope it will go away before we must become too uncomfortable. Sometimes we urge victims to “forgive” rather than doing the hard work of making the ones causing harm stop and repent. And it is entirely possible for church folks to weaponize this tool, confronting someone they wish to silence or to make go away. 

The internet doesn’t have to be a villain; it’s just a tool. In my opening story, it was a tool that facilitated community, consolation, and hope.  

The tool Jesus gives us for how to speak the truth in love and in compassion to one another can do those same things. Jesus must have been concerned about the community of believers and Matthew must have shared that same concern later, which led to preserving the teaching. 

The question for us is whether we share the same concern: a desire for a welcoming community, a hope for reconciliation, a longing for community wholeness, a joy in the truth. Do we have enough of this concern to use the tool Jesus has given us in a judicious manner, with prayer and gentleness, with truth and discretion? 

Are we willing to apply this tool not just in our work together as the church, but in all our doings so that anyone and everyone will see how we conduct ourselves and give glory to our Creator in heaven?

Our Lord, Jesus Christ, has given us many tools to be used for His purposes and to His glory. Let us pray for the insight, the strength, and the courage to do so.

Holy Son of God, we give you thanks for the gift of community and life together. Grant us wisdom and discernment that we may use the tools of discipline and truth-telling for growth, support, and hope in your church and in the world. May all we do be in gratitude and in response to your amazing grace. Amen. 

The Way of the Cross Can Have Rhinestones (Sermon)

This is a sermon about Jesus, adversaries, and Dolly Parton. 

When Jesus says to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan”, I imagine the other disciples all sucking in their breath and averting their eyes. None of them would have imagined Peter as a red devil with horns and a pitchfork, that’s an image from much later. 

Jesus is giving the disciples information they need to know about the kind of opposition, pain, and grief they are going to face when they come into Jerusalem. It is going to come from both civil and religious authorities, Jesus warns, but God’s authority is greater and trauma and destruction will not be the end of the narrative. 

Peter either cannot comprehend what Jesus is telling them or doesn’t want to. The careful explanation and spiritual preparation do not comport with the image he has in his mind of the one he has already named as Messiah. The healings he’s seen, the teachings he’s heard, the miracles he’s observed, surely all of this will not end in the horrific way Jesus is describing. Surely, God will not let it happen. 

Jesus’ rebuke has two directions. First, the Savior identifies the disciple as an adversary. The original meaning and phrasing for “satan” (or ha satan) is an adversary or the adversary. In this language context, Peter’s denial of Jesus’ truth-telling will make him an opponent rather than a follower, if he keeps arguing. 

Called out for resisting Jesus’ prophetic words, Peter then is forced to grapple with whether God will act in accordance with his (Peter’s) will or with the Divine will. Peter’s spiritual struggle is one to which we can all relate. Jesus is describing some terrible things. Why is God going to permit these things to happen? What makes these horrors acceptable? Why shouldn’t Peter, indeed any of us, be an adversary to pain and suffering? 

There’s more than one way to fight against suffering. Peter’s way was to demand that it never happen, at least not to Jesus and, preferably, not to him. We can be adversaries to suffering by denying it, by believing it won’t happen to us if we believe enough, pray perfectly enough, study enough. We can be adversaries to suffering by demanding that we know God’s plan and how it will work and exactly who will be affected and why. And when people have questions or doubts, we can shame them because they don’t believe the way we do. 

That’s one way to do it. The way that Peter was determined to embrace for a hot minute. 

There is, though, another way to be an adversary to suffering and to be on the side of Jesus. There’s a way to honor and glorify God and to not claim more knowledge than you have and to be an opponent to pain, hardship, and struggle. That’s the Dolly Parton way. In the past week, no one thinks she was perfect. No one says she didn’t struggle. No one is attesting that things were easy for her or that she didn’t have griefs and pain. 

Every story about Dolly Rebecca Parton Dean this week pointed to how she did not close her hand. She reached behind her; she pushed people ahead of her; she not only didn’t pull up her ladder behind her; she built additional supports for it so that others could climb up without fear or hindrance. 

She paid for books for children, for college for employees, for band uniforms and instruments in predominantly black high schools, for vaccine research, for support for victims of fires and hurricanes. Her nephew said, in his statement from the family, that she made sure everyone in that family had the support to achieve their goals. 

You can be an adversary to suffering. You can be an opponent of pain. You can resist the terrible things that human beings do to each other and the awful things that happen that are beyond our understanding. We can choose together, and as individuals, to embrace the fullness of what Jesus speaks over his hearers earlier in Matthew, to be the light of the world. 

Peter is going to make a few more mistakes before he gets it right. He does not want to be a satan, an adversary, to Jesus, yet he’s going to fumble, he’s going to deny, he’s going to doubt the resurrection. 

We, on the other hand, have information he didn’t have. We have the whole story, we have the faithfulness of God in Christ, we have the Holy Spirit. What do we do with what we have, with the grace we have been given? 

We have a choice every day when confronted with suffering. We can be like Peter and reject it, turning away because it doesn’t fit with what we want to be true. Or we can be like Dolly. We can profess our love for Jesus, acknowledge the suffering we can plainly see, accept that we cannot do everything, but we can do something. And then go about it. 

Take up your cross and follow doesn’t always mean crucifixion. Sometimes it just means hard work, a genuine smile, and a sincere effort to be an enemy of suffering in whatever form you find it. In living that way, Miss Dolly set her mind on divine things, and we can to. Amen. 

 

Questions and Points to Ponder?

Each summer, it is a privilege and a pleasure to help with staff training at Christikon and at Flathead Lutheran Bible Camp. One of my favorite things is to put out slips of paper and invite questions of all kinds. I still take (and get) verbal questions, but I receive a raft of folded slips of paper with burning questions of all types. 

Here is a sample: 

How can we reconcile the truth in other religions with Jesus saying He is the way, truth, and life?  

What should we do with what we’ve learned here? 

Why don’t we know who is going to hell? 

What if one person’s definition of the Bible as a tool might act/feel like a weapon to someone else? 

How should I relate to Jesus as a brother? 

How can God be good, but allowed my abuse to happen? 

What do you believe is the purpose of religion? 

Should I fit to the church or the church fit to me? 

What is your perspective and/or the Biblical perspective on utilizing violence to overcome oppressive systems? 

Thoughts on resistance vs. resilience? Who is allowed to resist? 

Are there parts of other religions you subscribe to or preach? 

How do I deal with nervousness about leading a group in Bible study/answering questions? [I] fear discouraging them/saying something incorrect. 

Have you experienced any difficulties being a woman in this field? How do you deal with it? 

What are your thoughts on the parable of the sower? 

 

How does one deal with feeling like an imposter or load? How do I know if I’m being honestly me? How does this relate to faith? 

What is your favorite story to preach on and your biggest lesson from it? 

What inspired you (or called you) to ministry? What were your personal reasons? 

What is your favorite Scripture or verse? 

What trait do you most value in yourself? 

When did you know you wanted to be a pastor? 

What is something that surprised you about writing a book? 

Pacifism vs. Inaction: can/should we take direct action against things like persecution and genocide for the sake of others? 

What brought you to Big Timber?

How has your family shaped your relationship with God? 

How do you approach situations where people use Christianity to justify injustice? When do you know to stand up for what you know to be true? 

Thoughts on diversity creating tension in a church community? 

What parts of the Bible point us toward hope? 

Have you doubted God? 

What keeps you in Montana? 

If communion represents God’s grace and love for all people, why do some churches not let everyone participate? 

How do we read and interpret the creation story in relation to scientific evidence? 

How has describing God as king contributed to a patriarchal history in the church and how women have been treated in some eras of Christianity?

What are your thoughts on surrounding yourself solely with people who believe the same things you do, especially in college or university? 

How can I combat someone who tells me that women cannot be a pastor? 

What makes Paul credible in his teachings? 

To whom should we address our prayers? Is praying to Jesus different than praying to God? 

Is disease the result of sin? 

How do we define the Kingdom of God to young kids? 

Do you think people need God? 

To what point does AI signify the end times? 

What do you believe happens to people who never get the opportunity to learn about Jesus in their lifetime? 

Thoughts on Christian nationalism? 

What would you ask? 

Thanks be to God

I think often these days of Edward Jenner, who pioneered (with others) vaccine science and whose work led to the initial near-eradication of cowpox and smallpox. 

People were not immediately trusting or fans of his work- some with religious objections, some with scientific, some because they would lose money on what they were selling (which didn’t work). 

His work and theories eventually did work and have gone on to save millions of lives. We know now that he was right. 

 Close to the end of his life, he said to a friend, “I am not surprised that men are not thankful to me; but I wonder that they are not grateful to God for the good which he has made me the instrument of conveying to my fellow-creatures.” 

Is there someone whose work we may not yet understand but for which we should, perhaps, be thankful to God? 

I stopped by Jenner in Kensington Park in London on 17 July to thank him and to thank God for him.

Truth and Consequences (Sermon)

Texts: Acts 5:55-60; John 14:1-14

I have been in a lot of conversations around the theme of forgiveness recently. It’s not just in Bible study, but also in individual exchanges as well. One thing that I’ve noticed in these discussions is that there seems to be a cultural expectation that if a person who has been harmed forgives, then the consequences will go away. 

That is not how forgiveness works. 

 

To forgive because of what has been done to us or to others is important work. It is not fast. It is not easy. It is, however, essential because it affects our relationship with God and our relationship with the work to which we are called. 

 

Forgiveness, because it is on a vertical plane, may not actually alter anything on the horizontal plane. Things between people may remain broken because forgiveness does not eliminate the consequences of harmful actions. Forgiveness is not a magic eraser or strong coat of paint.  

 

We actually see an example of a harmful action that can never be undone in today’s reading from Acts. When we read the story of the stoning of Stephen, particularly with his speech that directly precedes it, we have a sense of awe at his faith and an understanding of the grief of his martyrdom. 

 

We get a tiny mention here of something else, though. There is a description of a young man named Saul, standing with the coats of those who killed Stephen. This is the very end of ch. 7 of Acts and ch. 8 begins with this verse, “And Saul approved of the killing of Stephen.” Remember that when Luke wrote this, there were no chapters and verses. The words about Saul’s approval would have immediately followed the death of Stephen and his words of forgiveness. 

Saul, you may or may not know, goes on to become Paul, the one we sometimes call the Apostle Paul. He has a powerful encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus, when he (Paul) is on the way to commit more persecutions against Jesus’ followers. Jesus speaks to Saul, blinding him temporarily, until his mind is opened and his heart is softened through the work of the Spirit and the teaching of Ananis and others. 

 

We don’t have a good timeline for Acts, so we don’t have an accurate idea of how close in time the events are between Stephen’s stoning and the road to Damascus event. It’s likely between 2-4 years apart. 

 

After his encounter with Jesus, Paul spends time in Damascus and parts of Arabia. He is learning about what it means to be a follower of the Christ. As best we can tell, he comes back to Jerusalem three years later, so between 5-7 years after Stephen’s death. Acts 9 tells us that the believers in Jerusalem did not trust him and were afraid of him. Barnabas takes up Paul’s cause and tells of Paul’s witness in Damascus. 

 

Even with Barnabas facilitating reconciliation, it is not really possible for Paul to remain in Jerusalem. Part of it is his personality: he’s strong-willed and ends up in a lot of arguments. The other issue is that people still struggle with trusting him. The community is full of people who remember Stephen- their friend and co-worker in the Lord, maybe even their relative. 

 

Eventually, Paul’s friends move him out of the area. A major reason that Paul’s mission becomes to the Gentiles of Asia Minor is not purely because God called him to that. Paul is called to that work because his behavior prevents him from being anywhere else. His watching and approving of the death of Stephen closes the door on his ability to be part of God’s mission anywhere except to people who do not already know him. (And who aren’t yet annoyed with him.) 

 

The believers in Jerusalem can have God’s help in letting go of their anger and grief, but that does not mean that they have the human capacity to welcome Paul back into their company- at table, in worship, through prayer. Their forgiveness means they can commend Paul to God and understand God to work in him and through him, but just not near them. There is too much pain on the horizontal level, within the human relationships, for there to be trust and community. 

This is what I mean when I say that forgiveness, between us and God, does not remove consequences. Human relationships are not Legos. They can’t come apart and then just snap back together. Sometimes things that have been broken can be mended, but sometimes they stay broken. 

 

The harm is too great. The grief is too deep. The wound may scab, but the scar remains. 

 

When we think of Jesus proclaiming that He is the way, the truth, and the life, part of what we are called to consider is how following in His way and living in his truth is meant to guide us into lives of care and compassion. It is his life, death, and resurrection that helps us to comprehend the fullness of God’s grace and mercy. 

 

In living like Jesus, however, we acknowledge that we are still in this life wherein actions have reactions and consequences. We must make every effort not to stand by, watching the coats and approving of harm that is done to anyone. What happened to Stephen was legal, but not moral. That can happen in our own time and the converse as well, illegal actions that are moral. 

 

As people who are called and equipped to live in the way of Jesus, we can help one another with forgiveness - relief and healing in our relationship with God. We can also live the truth of faithful community, acknowledging that sometimes people may not be able to be welcomed back to a space where they caused harm, but perhaps they can be received in God’s name elsewhere.

We cannot treat grace cheaply, allowing it to cover a multitude of sins without acknowledging pain. We can handle grace with generosity. We can support those who have been hurt and recall that our Savior bore his own scars in his resurrected body. 

 

Hope and healing are real. They can happen; they do happen. Reconciliation between people can happen as well, but sometimes on-going relationship is no longer possible. Even so, the grace and love of Jesus remains and the promise of all things being made new in the life of the world to come is still true. For Stephen and Saul, for Barnabas and Paul. And for us and all people. 

 

Amen. 

 

 

Trust the Comma and the Gate

George Burns and Gracie Allen were one of the greatest comedic duos in history. They were inseparable on the radio, on stage, and on television. Their television show was on from 1950–1958. After having some heart trouble, Gracie decided to retire. George attempted the show without her for one year, but it didn’t work without Gracie. She died of a heart attack in 1964. When George went through her papers, he found a note she wrote to him, which included the line, “Never place a period where God has placed a comma.” Never place a period where God has placed a comma. George Burns took this reminder from his beloved that his life on earth wasn’t over yet. He went on to continue acting, directing, and writing until he died at the age of 100 in 1996, always missing Gracie, but continuing to truly live his own life. 

A reminder that came from deep love, even in grief, “Never place a period where God has placed a comma.”

In today’s reading from John, Jesus introduces us to a radical idea that echoes in Gracie’s note. He says, "My sheep hearmy voice." Notice the tense. He doesn't say the sheep heard the voice of God back in the days of the prophets, nor that they will only hear it in the life of the world to come. Jesus speaks in present tense and John preserves that tense. Jesus is speaking, the Creator is speaking, the Spirit is speaking. Right now. 

Often, the story of our faith can feel like something long ago and far away — a collection of periods and finished chapters. The saints, the apostles, the reformers, the mothers and fathers of our faith — they lived ages ago. We sometimes talk as though the "voice of God" is something confined to ancient parchment. 

But Jesus describes a living, breathing relationship, an active communication and calling. Jesus tells us that to be called His followers, his people, sheep of his fold, and lambs of his flock means to still be listening to his voice. To hear His voice today is to recognize that the Divine is still speaking. There is a voice of Love and grace that is louder and more persuasive than all our modern noise, but we must pay attention to how we’re tuned to hear it and listen. 

Jesus warns us about that modern noise, the misdirecting sounds, and loud untruths. He speaks of the thief who comes to "steal and kill and destroy." These thieves don't just try steal our peace; they try to steal our future by lying about God’s punctuation and our identity as valuable and treasured.

A thief is always a master of the premature period. They whisper:

"You've made too many mistakes; your story is over." (Period.)

"This sickness is the end of you." (Period.)

"You’ll never understand the Bible, so you should quit trying." (Period.)

“No one will believe you now, so you might as well keep lying.” (Period.)

“It doesn’t matter if you keep going. No one cares.” (Period.)

These voices try to convince us that the gate is locked, that our purpose has expired, or that God has stopped speaking. They want to trap you in a finished chapter, convincing you that there is no "next" in your walk with the Shepherd. But a voice that tells you God is done with you is never the voice of the Shepherd. You matter. Your presence matters. You are part of God’s beloved creation. And you are defined by God’s love for you, not anything you’ve done. A sentence is never too long for one more comma and a new clause in God’s handwriting. 

Jesus corrects the thief’s grammar by declaring, "I am the gate." In the life of a shepherd, the gate functions as a comma. It is not a wall; it is a point of transition that swings in both directions.

There are seasons when the world is too loud and predators are too close. The shepherd guides us through the valley, by still water, and into the gate to take refuge in the fold. Here, the comma represents a pause—a place of rest, healing, and protection. We find "pasture" for our souls.

But the sheep do not stay in the fold forever. Jesus says they “will come in and go out.” The gate swings outward. This is the comma of service. We are led out into the world to be the hands and feet of the Shepherd, witnessing the protection and provision that only come from love and care and a deep understanding of our continuing story. 

Jesus grants a powerful promise: "I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

Abundant life, a life where we are followed constantly by goodness and mercy, is found in the rhythm of the gate—the "in and out" of a life led by His voice. When we try to place a period on our lives — deciding we are too old to serve, too broken to be used, or too comfortable to change — we miss the abundance.

Gracie Allen knew that even in grief, God wasn’t finished with George. Jesus proclaims that even in our failures or our fears, He isn't finished with us.

Reject and renounce the false periods that come from thieves, that diminish your worth, that make you feel small, that make you question God’s work in your salvation. Listen for the Shepherd’s voice. Look and listen for the signs and words of love. Let Christ draw you into the fold when you need rest, and follow Him out into the world where He leads you to mission. Trust the comma, trust the Gate, and live the life that is truly full.

Amen.