"The Way in Between" - a sermon for the community of Zion Lutheran Church

Hello friends,

Good morning! It's been a whirlwind of a week at Zion - complete with a funeral, home visits, sermon preparation, a Twins game, a Barbary Coast Dixieland Band concert & pie social, and preaching for Sunday worship. My parents and littlest brother came for a visit this weekend - they just left for home - and it was great to spend time with them - they came to Sunday church, then we went and ate in Detroit Lakes, found a flea market, and cooked dinner and hung around the parsonage. Now it's back to the office today, Monday morning. I'm enjoying the rhythms of weekly life here at the church, and am finding myself remembering more names day by day - there's lots of them! 

At Zion we preach using the Narrative Lectionary, which is a new way of operating that I've gotten accustomed to - it's not the Revised Common Lectionary, which is generally in more wide-spread use across the Church. The Narrative Lectionary preaches through the Bible chronologically from September to May, starting with Creation in Genesis and ending in Revelation. During the summer months, the Narrative Lectionary devotes itself to mini-series - short 3-4-5 week series on a particular epistle, Psalm, or Creed. This sermon I preached was the second sermon in our series on the book of Hebrews. 

Here's the text of the day and my sermon manuscript! I was inspired by my grandmother Shirley's life, and told bits of her story here. 

Hebrews 2:10-18 - "It was fitting that God, for whom and through whom all things exist, in bringing many children to glory, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through sufferings. For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters, saying, 

“I will proclaim your name to my brothers and sisters, in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.” 

And again, 

“I will put my trust in him.” 

And again, 

“Here am I and the children whom God has given me.”

Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."

"The Way in Between - Suffering, Hope, & the Cross"

Friends, grace to you and peace from God our Creator and God’s Son Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Good morning, brother and sisters. I want to tell you a story about my grandmother. My mom’s mom. She’s 83 years old, has gray-white hair, and loves to cross-stitch and is really good at it, too. She makes patterns and designs for her grandchildren’s weddings, and made each of us Christmas stockings when we were younger. She’s fiercely independent but loves each moment she gets to spend with her daughters – my mom, 3 aunts, and her son. She’s the true definition of a “salt of the earth” soul, who raised her children on the homesteaded farm north of Cannon Falls and loved to cuss when the cows got out when my grandpa was away flying and she had young children in tow. My grandmother worked as a secretary for the Cannon Falls Schools and lost her mother, father, and only sibling by the time she was in her thirties. My grandfather was a pilot for Northwest Airlines and was dedicated to his career, leaving her alone on the farm with the children at times. She stayed married largely for my mother, aunts, and uncle’s sake, and they have, in recent years, divorced. Suffering is a part of this story, as is in many family’s backgrounds and histories, but thanks be to God that it is not the last chapter. It has indeed been blessing upon blessing to watch and be in relationship with my grandmother since then – she has an apartment that she loves – no more lawn mowing or cow chasing, she bounces between Lutheran and Baptist churches depending on the week, and we as family have circled around her in support, love, and encouragement. Our dwelling with and for each other has deepened – we’ve never been closer – and for the sadness that was endured it’s so easy now to see that my grandmother is a living expression and testament to Christ’s work in us as children and beloved of God – she is, and always has been, graceful, kind, and lives each day in the light of Christ’s love for her.

            I’ll be honest – when I found out that I was preaching on this text, and after I had read through it a time or two, I got pretty dang excited. There’s much to say here about good news and God’s promises and hope in the midst of brokenness. The author of this text continually points to the pioneer, or perfection, of our faith as Jesus Christ. Jesus is both here the beginning and the end of our calling to faith – beginning at our baptism and ending when we are reconciled to God at our deaths. However, just because we live in faith doesn’t mean everything is always going to be peachy. We know this all too well. The way in between – this life we live each and every day – isn’t promised to be easy. There will be difficulties. We will be indeed be afflicted. We see it in our everyday – in the death of a loved one, in the loss of relationships, in health and medical concerns, in financial worries, and in many other ways in which brokenness and sin persists in our society and culture, sometimes at our own hands, intentionally or unintentionally – racism, classism, sexism, and the list goes on. Some days, most days, it seems overwhelming, what we are faced with, and I often find myself wondering, “Where is the good news?”

            Part of the good news is that we are, by far, not the first people to experience the everyday “stuff” that life brings. Today, in our second sermon in our series on the book of Hebrews, the author, likely a pastor to a specific congregation, is writing to his people about their own crisis as a community of faith. The church here in Hebrews was suffering from a faith crisis. They had expected Jesus to return soon, and now it had been a number of years, with no Jesus in sight. What did this mean for the faith? People in that congregation weren’t sure what to believe in any more – was the story, the person of Christ, who they had heard taught and healed and fed all these people – to be believed in, or trusted? In the meantime, while professing their faith, the church was being persecuted by Romans – people were being actively sought out, killed and martyred for what they believed. These times were not easy – I imagine facing the prospect of death is downright terrifying. So there were those things, alongside the day by day. No small order for people to face, right?

There is relief, though, in this – for both the faithful Hebrews congregation and for us at Zion Lutheran – that in our brokenness we are brought into communion with the One who is indeed perfect – Jesus Christ. The pioneer language that I referenced above is important here – Jesus has experienced suffering, and has been consistently with humanity with all of our “stuff” since the very beginning. In Jesus, we are welcomed into the communion of the saints who have joined the church triumphant while we are still here on earth. We are molded into the community of the faithful who have experienced the same earthly blood, sweat, and tears moments as Christ did on the cross – different sufferings, but same ultimate ending and intention. As Christ died for our salvation, so we are made closer and closer into God’s image.

            I must be clear about something. I don’t mean this to intend that the more suffering we undergo the more God favors us. Suffering should not be something that we think about as testing us, or as something we seek out to win a greater reward – as there are some Christian denominations who do believe that. I don’t think that that is how God operates or what God intends in the way God works. Verse 18, which I think is the ultimate point of this text, reads something beautiful, referencing Christ – “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” In our earthly suffering, in whatever form that takes, we are helped and indeed cherished by Christ who died for our sake, who brings us into communion with the faithful in all ages, times, and spaces. We live with Christ as our High Priest – a role that would have been familiar to the faithful congregation in the early church, as someone who made sacrifices on the behalf of God’s people. So too, Jesus sacrificed himself for the sake of the whole world. It is in that sacrifice made that we are named free – to live freely in this world as children of God, to live freely into our callings to tend to the sick in mind, body, and spirit, to visit the prisoner, to feed the hungry, and to work for justice in a world riddled with injustice in so many forms.

            It is good to know that in the midst of suffering we are proclaimed and loved as children of God. It is good to know that we can trust in Christ as he fulfilled his promise and that we can live in community – this congregation and in the world – as we work for the sake of the Gospel, this gift we have been entrusted to that is sometimes hard to understand, totally free, and with our hands, can turn the world upside down and with any amount of grace make things right.

            Friends, we have been called in to an unfathomable, exciting mystery of faith. We have been given each other – our church community – and our friends and family to be in relationship with, and we strive to see God’s kingdom brought near even in the midst of the troubles this world brings – both personally and societally. It is then that we remember the work of the cross, and remember the sacrifice of God’s only Son Jesus the Christ, who is our helper, our advocate, and the pioneer and finisher of our faith. It is then, knowing this, that joy meets suffering, reconciliation covers brokenness, peace conquers fear, and faith comes alive. It is then that we can say, thanks be to God. Amen. 

God's Joy, 

Dean

"and I am with you always" - a sermon for the community of Zion Lutheran Church

Hello from Pelican Rapids, Minnesota, friends!

What a whirlwind past few days. Uffda. I found myself just a week ago in denial that the move to internship was coming so quickly - I packed up on Tuesday with the help of my family, drove up to Pelican Rapids on Wednesday, and immediately jumped into internship on Thursday morning - men's devotionals at the Cornfield Cafe (a local diner that I'm going to take all of my visitors to - a great mom and pop place!), a hospital visit, and church tour. Friday and Saturday were largely devoted to getting settled, meeting my parishioners, and figuring out the lay of the land in northwestern Minnesota. Saturday night I went with a husband and wife and friend of theirs (all parishioners at Zion) to a pig roast dinner at Central Lutheran Church in Pelican Rapids, and then went back and played dominoes until 10pm - they taught me how to play - and then had really great rhubarb pie and coffee. Sunday brought my first two worship services, where I preached this sermon as a sort of way of introduction. In between services they had a pantry shower - complete with a quilt, cards, kitchen goodies, and a potluck to boot! In just a few days...I have been surprised again and again and again at the kindness, generosity, and goodness of the people here. How freely I'm welcomed into their homes and lives. I'm hoping throughout the year that I am able to repay that in some way - a seemingly insurmountable task! They are good to me, and I intend to respond in kind.

I've gotten cards from parishioners that are titled "Intern Pastor Dean" and "Pastor Dean" - and what a joy it has been in just these past few days to already grow into that title. Here's to a year of pastoral formation - of growth, figuring things out, seeing how this whole "pastor" business works, and being faithful to the Gospel which God has entrusted us with. I'm excited. I'm thankful, so thankful, that God has called me to be here in this time and place.

Here's the text from this Sunday!

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and God’s Son Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Hello, friends. I preface my first sermon with thanksgiving; that it is so very good to be here. My name is Dean Safe, and I’m pleased to be the 20th intern in the long history that this congregation has of raising up future pastors. It is a joy to be among you, and I am looking forward to our year of ministry together. There’s much for me to learn, and much of your wisdom and advice to impart as I continue in my formation as a pastor. I’m excited to get to know you all and live life among and with you in the months to come.

It begins here, though. I come to you from Luther Seminary in St. Paul, but before that I lived the majority of my life in Cannon Falls, Minnesota; a small agrarian rural community an hour southeast of the Twin Cities. I was born three and a half months early, to a young farming mom and dad. I wasn’t expected to survive the night, so I was baptized just a few hours after birth. I spent the first three months of my life surrounded by teams of doctors and nurses who fought every day for my survival. These people, this “cloud of witnesses” to the beginning of my life would impact and shape not only my parent’s lives but also my own. Lifelong friendships were formed, especially with my primary nurse, and I learned the importance of being surrounded in communities that uplift and sustain life in all of its facets. I grew up a dairy farmer’s son, where we raised and milked on average about 25 Holstein cattle. I grew up with three generations working together – when we would do chores at night, my grandfather, my dad, and my brothers and I would all pitch in with milking and feeding. I grew up on strong coffee and Hank Williams Sr. playing in the barn. Things weren’t always easy, by any means – finances became tight, and my parents had to choose between either medicine or food at times. Trucks and farm equipment often weren’t fixed because parts were too expensive. Both teamwork on the farm and pulling together as a family was learned from an early age. Today, that is instilled deeply in who I am. I went to high school in Cannon Falls and it was there that I began to sense the call to some form of ministry. I had grown up in the church, attending rural Spring Garden Lutheran Church, and my pastors had always been encouraging me to explore that calling as I connected with others in youth group, servant leadership opportunities, and continued that mentorship into my college years at Waldorf College in Forest City, Iowa. I graduated there in 2012 with a degree in English and Creative Writing before taking a year to work at Holden Village – a Lutheran retreat center in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. It was being at Holden – working in the kitchen, gathering for nightly worship, and being in the community of people who found themselves there – that confirmed my call to ministry. I began seminary in the fall of 2013 as a Master of Arts student. I wasn’t going to be a pastor, but instead felt deeply called to work in the intersections of bread baking, social justice, and community work. Later that year, after many conversations with pastors and friends, I realized that the work I wanted to do would easily translate into ordained ministry. I began the path to ordination – changing degree programs, class registration, and the rest – and what a journey it has been from there – from saying, “Yes, God, I will be your servant in the way you have called me”, to being here with you all at Zion. I have found myself continually amazed at the people who surround me on the journey in the Christian faith – those who have come before me guiding the way, those who walk alongside, and those who will come after.

The creeds in response to our Christian life function much in the same way. I’ve lived my life supported and guided by people who have shaped and influenced me and my ideals, and I will hopefully leave something of myself here when my time is finished. So it is when we read the creeds – typically the Nicene and Apostles, most commonly – that we as individual people are brought into the same experience that the Church has over and over again through the ages – we join the countless faithful people who have come before us, and we boldly declare the tenants of faith for those who will come after us. The concept of belief – belief in God, belief in something radically beyond ourselves – is beautiful, here. We recite it together in worship to remember that as gathered Christians we hold fast to the promises of God – that through Christ, there will be indeed the communion of saints, forgiveness of sins, and resurrection of all people. We realize that we’re not going this journey alone – we do indeed have one another to rely upon – again, the saints have come before us and will indeed come after us – and I think that that is one of the most important things to remember along our discoveries and hopes in our faith.

Our Gospel text for today affirms what we learn in the creeds. In the Gospel of Matthew, in this passage, there’s room for all people, and it’s that idea that makes Christianity and belief flourish. In the text from Matthew, it is apparent that some worship, and some don’t. All walks of people are included in this text, because we have all been assigned a task – to go and make disciples of all, from all, nations. This task is not exclusive only to the rich, wealthy, or privileged – no, each and every one of us, no matter what our backgrounds, no matter where we find our station in life, no matter how poor or lonely or desolate we find ourselves some days, each of us are invited into this commission that continues today. We are to share the good news of Christ especially with those who seem to be other, or who are different, from ourselves, until God reconciles the world to how it should be – perfect, no longer broken, and living in God’s perpetual light. By responding to Jesus’ words, we are invited into community – to gather for the sake of those who come before us, to be faithful with the ones who are here and now, and to pass the promises of faith to future generations. In this work, in this calling to faith that we believe in, Jesus promises to be with us always – and what a promise that is.

So, my friends – where do we find ourselves in this? We find ourselves saying the creeds every Sunday – maybe sometimes mindlessly, maybe most times intentionally – and there is Gospel there. In confessing our faith with the creeds, we are led into deeper invitation to what being a Christian is all about – sharing the good news, the hope, and joy of Christ that is indeed for the whole world. It begins with the Great Commission to the disciples and continues on to us, and will continue to be infectious to those who come after us in the faith. We here at Zion Lutheran are indeed blessed to participate in all that God has called us to be and do in the name of Christ. Our Christian life is enriched and blossoms each time we say, “I believe in the Father, Son, Holy Spirit…” because it is in those words that we come back to the root of it all – to the God who has called us to be together in this time and place, to the Son who loves us beyond our wildest imagination, and to the Spirit who moves among us and calls us to service.

Again – I am thrilled to be here. I’m looking forward immensely to living life with you – of being part of this community, in the present. I give thanks for those who have come before me, and am anticipating our work together. We confess that we believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and the forgiveness of sins – now, friends, let’s go live it out – the world is indeed waiting. Thanks be to God. Amen.

God's Peace, my friends -
Intern Pastor Dean Safe