Tuesday, October 20, 2026

Sermon: The Story of Release (Not Holding On) (Oct. 18, 2026)

 Pentecost 21A – “The story of release (not holding on)”
October 19, 2026
Matthew 22:15-22

INTRODUCTION

Religion and politics. The two things you should never talk about in polite company, right? And certainly not together! Yet today the lectionary brings these two together in an undeniable way. In the Isaiah text, the prophet announces that God is using a Gentile king, the Persian Cyrus, someone who “does not know God,” to bring about God’s purpose of bringing the Israelites out of Babylonian captivity, out of exile, and back to Jerusalem to rebuild the Temple. It’s a story by which we see how God can use even an unfaithful, secular ruler to bring about God’s justice and plan. 

Then in Matthew, some Jewish leaders try to trick Jesus – again – with a question about taxation, and whether taxes should be paid to the emperor, the king. It doesn’t get much more political than that! And to be sure, this is no idle inquiry – this question about taxation is a particularly hot button issue of the day, one of the hottest. This is all made more intense by the broader setting – Monday of Holy Week. Earlier that day, Jesus has “cleansed the temple,” turning over the money-changers tables because of the financial corruption going on. Then he has delivered a couple of hard-hitting and pointed parables. The atmosphere is hot to the touch. 

The stewardship theme today is “The Story of Release (Not Holding On).” As you listen today, consider what perspectives, ways of life or thinking, or possessions you try to hold onto, and what it feels like when you are able to loosen your grip a bit. Let’s listen.

[READ]


Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. 

This little vignette from Jesus’ life, “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s,” has over the years been used for political purposes, endorsing willing participation in civic systems. And understandably so! What is more political, what feels more relevant to our civic life, than a dispute about tax policy? 

But of course, the question I bring to the text each week is not, “What can we learn about politics, or taxation?” My question is, “Where is the good news in this text? Where is the promise?”

This week I’m also thinking about our stewardship theme, which is “the story of release (not holding on).” I will admit to you that as I started preparing this sermon, I was puzzled as to why Deacon Emily and I had selected that theme for this Sunday! I mean, as a stewardship concept, it’s not bad – so much of our resistance to giving is a desire to hold onto what is ours because it gives us comfort or a sense of safety and security, and because, frankly, it is hard to let go! There is real power and liberation in the ability to let go of things that are holding us back. Sue will share an example in today’s temple talk that I suspect you will be able to relate to about the power and freedom of letting go. And I can think of several Gospel readings that would have supported that theme of release very well. But what about this text brought to our minds all those weeks ago, the idea of release?

The key is in that sermon-guiding question I posed: where is the good news in this text? To get at the answer, we need a bit more context on what exactly is going on here. 

The economic system in 1st century Palestine, as you can imagine, was different from ours today. I don’t understand the ins and outs of 1st century tax code, but what I do know is this: Israel is under the rule of an oppressive Roman empire, and so for Israel, to pay taxes to Rome was to participate in their own subjugation. Another thing to know is that there were several different taxes that they had to pay, and they required different coinage. The kind of coin used to pay Roman taxes was one that had Caesar’s face on it, and the words, “Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus, Emperor.” So, in addition to contributing to their own oppression, the use of these coins broke two Jewish laws: they contained a graven image of a secular ruler, and a blasphemous statement about him being divine. Insult to injury. You can see why paying Roman taxes was such a hot button issue for Israel.

The Pharisees and the Herodians who have teamed up to trap Jesus have nothing in common other than their disdain for Jesus – certainly they had different opinions about taxation! The Pharisees, along with the Jewish masses, were against paying Roman taxes, where the Herodians were Roman sympathizers, who benefitted from these same taxes. No matter which way Jesus’ answer goes, it seems, he is going to upset someone and potentially get himself in big trouble. It’s a very good trap.

Okay, so with all that in mind, let’s look at Jesus’ clever answer. He asks them to pull out a coin, the type for paying Roman taxes, which they do. He asks, “Whose image is on it, and whose likeness?” It is the same language used in Genesis 1, when God “created humans in his image, according to his likeness.” Here, on this coin, the answer is Caesar. And so, Jesus says, “It belongs to Caesar then. So give it to him.” But then the next bit: “and give to God what is God’s.” If we use Jesus’ definition of what indicates ownership, then what belongs to God? It is the thing that bears his image: humans, who are made in his image, according to his likeness. We are what belongs to God, what is to be given to God.

Now, to return to the original question, which guides every sermon: where is the good news in this text? It is definitely not in an oppressive tax system, nor is it in enemies teaming up to trap Jesus. That’s obvious. Less obvious, is that as well as this would fit with a stewardship sermon, the good news is not in the implication that if we are what bears God’s image, then we should give ourselves to God – everything we have and everything we are – since Jesus says, “give to God what is God’s.” Now, don’t get me wrong, that is not a bad thing to do; indeed it is a good thing! Giving yourself to God describes a Christian life, this recognition that since all we have and all we are belongs to God, we should give back willingly from all of our resources: our selves, our time, and our possessions, all signs of God’s gracious love. That message would also go really well with the stewardship theme today, to “release and not hold on.” To give, and give some more, and more different ways! These are all good things to do, and we should do them!

But the gospel is a promise, and a promise doesn’t generally include the phrase “you should.” It is not one more thing we need to do. The gospel is a gift. Is there a promise in belonging to God? Is there a gift in the story of release, and not holding on?

Let me ask you something. Have you ever looked at a situation in your life, and thought, “This all depends on me. If I fail, I will be letting people down, or they will judge me. I’m the only one who can fix this. No one is going to do this for me. I’m on my own here. If I don’t fix it, people will get hurt.” Or perhaps, “I have already failed, and it is all my fault.” 

How do those statements feel to hear, to live under? For me, they feel as oppressive as a Roman Empire. The pressure is sometimes too much to take, feeling like I’m all on my own, that it is up to me to fix it, that other’s well-being depends on me, or it’s my fault it broke in the first place. It sucks all the joy out of a task. What could have been a loving act or even fun, becomes drudgery, a duty. And the more I depend on or blame myself, the more I feel like if I don’t hold on, then everything will fall apart. And it will be my fault.

Now, hear the promise in these words: “give to God what belongs to God.” Release all that junk you’re holding onto: the blame, the expectations, the shame, the self-imposed duty. Release the pressure you’ve put yourself under. I don’t mean cast the blame on God, nor to shirk your responsibilities. But do let God hold some of your burden with you, so you are not holding onto it alone. Release it, rather than holding on. “Give to God what belongs to God.”

That is a promise. Give to God what is God’s – not only in the sense of giving yourself in terms of tasks and resources, but in the sense of giving God your wounded and stressed-out heart. Give it to God, so that you can once again find joy and peace in your daily work. Without all the shame and blame and expectation we love to hold onto, giving of time and resources can once again become a joy, something we do out of love. It’s no longer drudgery, but an act of gratitude. And I don’t know about you, but I am a much more satisfied and cheerful giver when I’m not giving from underneath a 10-ton weight on my heart, but rather, out of a sense of joy in God’s presence. It feels less like duty and more like a way to worship the God who provides all things, who made me in their image, who calls me his own, and because of that, promises never to forsake me. 

That is a God to whom I want to belong, a God to whom I want to give. It’s a God to whom I want to release all the things that would keep me from the joy of giving of my time, my talents, and my treasure. The work of release is such hard work – whether it’s a mindset, an expectation, or physical things, there is so much connected to it all, and it feels very vulnerable to let it go. It has protected us, we think, for so long. But my friends, it hasn’t protected you. God has protected you all along. And the living and true God will continue to care for that which bears his beautiful image. 

Let us pray… Liberating God, we hold onto so much junk, both physical and emotional, thinking it will protect us. Give us the courage to release it, so that we could lovingly live into our identity as your beloveds, created in your image. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.



Monday, October 12, 2026

Sermon: The Story of Trusting God (Not Ourselves) (Oct. 11, 2026)

Pentecost 20A
October 11, 2026
Isaiah 25:1-9; Psalm 23; Philippians 4:1-9


INTRODUCTION

Last week I mentioned that in the Gospel narrative, we are currently in Holy Week. That’s important to remember today, because as Jesus gets closer to his death, his teachings and interactions are getting increasingly intense. Like when a parent nicely asks their kid to clean their room several times, but the kid doesn’t actually hear them until the parent is yelling at them – well, Jesus is at the yelling stage. Intensity is high, time is short, and Jesus needs them to hear this message. So, his rhetoric is getting quite extreme. At least that is how I am choosing to interpret the harshness and violence of the parable we will hear today about a wedding banquet gone horribly wrong.

I have preached on this difficult parable before, but I’m not going to today. Today’s stewardship theme is “The Story of Trusting God (Not Ourselves).” So, instead of Matthew, I’ll be preaching on the beautiful images of trust and abundance we find in the other three readings. Isaiah speaks to a people who have no reason to celebrate with joy, due to foreign invaders causing perpetual fear and destruction. But here, Isaiah speaks of a rich and satisfying feast, at which God will wipe away tears, and where the people will rejoice and be glad in his salvation. It is a hope for the future, assuring the people that while things are bad now, they can trust God that this better future is coming. 

Psalm 23 also delivers a call to trust God – in the midst of dark valleys and at tables full of enemies, God is with us, and our cup overflows with his goodness. 

Paul’s letter to the Philippians rounds us out, with a call to rejoice, and praise, and relish in the goodness of Christ, who will guard our hearts and minds, and who sooths our worries with the peace that surpasses all understanding. 

Hold tightly to the promises you hear in those first three readings, friends. Then, as you listen to the difficult gospel lesson, recall the ways we can trust in God, even in the midst of the difficulty life can sometimes bring. Let’s listen.

[READ]



Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today’s stewardship theme is “The Story of Trusting God (Not Ourselves).” Of all the stewardship themes we will pursue this month, this one may be the most difficult. Perhaps that is why the theme of trusting God comes up so frequently in scripture – trusting God has always been a necessary part of faith… and God’s people have always struggled with it! The Bible is full of such stories, in which people choose to take matters into their own hands, rather than do what God told them to do. Adam and Eve, desiring to be like God, believe the snake rather than God, and eat the forbidden fruit. Jonah is asked to prophesy to the Ninevites, and literally runs in the opposite direction only to be caught in a storm, thrown overboard, and swallowed by a big fish. King Ahaz, against God’s orders and Isaiah’s warnings, buddies up with the enemy in order to fight off another enemy, and the whole kingdom falls and the people are sent into exile in Babylon. 

Over and over again. In fact, most of the Old Testament is this cycle of: God said to do this, people did something different, God sent messengers to remind them to trust him, they still do something different. Chaos ensues, the people come crawling back to God, God forgives, everything is good for a bit… and then people again choose to trust themselves instead of God, and the cycle continues. 

We’re not much better. I know I think pretty highly of myself and my ability to make good decisions, even if I know in my gut that it is not what God was pushing me to do. God usually ends up getting God’s way eventually, but it is a mighty feat to get my heart to a place where I trust God more than I trust myself.

Maybe you can think of your own stories of times when you trusted God, and times when you didn’t, and perhaps even times when you didn’t at first, but then came around. Since we are focused this month on telling our own stories in the context of God’s story, I have invited someone to share a story of immense trust in God. Full disclosure, this one is also a part of my story, but I don’t remember it because I was only one year old at the time; but the trust that my parents put in God’s path for them absolutely played a pivotal role in my own story – and ultimately yours, as it brought me here to you. I’d like to invite Lois to share her story.

[Mom share story about Dad moving from ministry in UMC to Lutheran, and waiting for a call to a Lutheran church. It was June, and since he was not renewing his call at their UMC congregation, and they were living in a parsonage, they would be both jobless and homeless on July 1, with a 1-year-old and a 4-year-old. Still, they trusted where God was leading, and God came through. Dad served at Peace Lutheran for nearly 30 years, and it is the place that formed me and ultimately led to me pursuing ministry myself.]

What stories did that bring to mind for you from your own life? What are some of the times you have trusted God, despite the unknowns before you, and God came through? 

In thinking about this story this week, I found myself drawn to both the Psalm and Philippians. Psalm 23 is the ultimate Psalm of trust. The Psalmist begins by saying simply and with confidence: God is my shepherd who cares for me and provides for me; therefore, there is nothing that I lack. I have all I need. The Psalmist takes us into dark valleys, and to tables full of enemies and fears, affirming again that God is continually present, providing abundantly, through everything we face.

It’s beautiful and inspiring. And, I have to say, I also appreciate that in his letter to the Philippians, Paul acknowledges that there is still worry and anxiety associated with the leap to trust God. “Do not be anxious about anything,” Paul writes, “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” 

“Do not be anxious…” Ha, easy for him to say! The reality is that we are anxious, we do worry! I’m sure that even though my parents trusted God was leading them somewhere, they were still anxious about the very real possibility of being homeless and jobless with two little kids in just three weeks! It’s hard not to worry! 

These days, I suspect a lot of our worries are about money. I know that’s true for me; I am paying almost twice as much at the grocery store these days as I was a couple years ago, not to mention the cost of fuel! The cost of healthcare is going up as much as 15% in the coming year. There is so much to worry about, and money tops the list for a lot of us. We long for that peace that surpasses all understanding, that comes from complete trust, to be louder than the worries. 

Paul’s advice is predictable: pray, both with supplication and thanksgiving. Ask for things you need, yes, but also, thank God for what you already have – and perhaps focus especially on the thanksgiving! Because a regular practice of thanksgiving helps us to see how God has already provided for us, and abundantly so. Our cups runneth over! Gratitude orients our hearts toward trust by showing us God’s history of coming through for us, in big ways – like a life-changing job coming through just in time – and in any number of small ways.

Every year during the stewardship campaign, we invite you to “prayerfully consider” what you will give this year. When you do that, I hope you will include prayers of thanksgiving for all the ways your trust in God has been justified before, when God did indeed provide, even when you may have felt anxious. And I hope those prayers will lead to a decision to trust God in the form of your giving to St. Paul’s. The story my mom shared about their leap of faith in 1984 is a once or twice a lifetime sort of story. But our practice of giving to God through our church is a way that we can practice trust every year, every month, or even every week. Speaking for myself, I give monthly, and on the first of each month when I get an email saying my gift to St. Paul’s has left my bank account… it hurts a little at first, when I imagine also my grocery bill, my car payments, my mortgage… My instinct is to trust myself, to rely on myself, to hold onto that money. 

But I am learning to see that gift instead as a concrete expression of my trust in a God who has never let me down. I see the amount, I take a breath, and I think, “Thank you God. I trust you. And I know, although this feels big right now, that you will not let me down this time either.” It is honestly one of my most important and prayerful acts of faith and trust each month. The size of the gift is enough for me to feel it – and this is how it strengthens and increases my trust in God every time I give it. It is a regular exercise for my trust muscles. 

How about you? In what ways do you or can you concretely trust God? Is there a way you could you come to trust God more? Join me in praying about it, so that our trust in God’s providence might always increase.

Let us pray… God, help us to trust in you with all our heart. Thank you for all the ways you have come through for us before. Now, help us to trust that you will do so again. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 



Sunday, October 4, 2026

Sermon: The Story of Stewardship (Not Ownership) (Oct. 4, 2026)

Pentecost 19A
October 4, 2026
Matthew 21:33-46

INTRODUCTION:

A lot has recently happened in the Gospel of Matthew, much of which we skipped, so let’s reorient ourselves. Narratively speaking, we are currently in Holy Week, the last week of Jesus’ life. Just yesterday, Jesus triumphantly entered Jerusalem on a donkey, to cheers and waving palms. He then went to the Temple, and turned over the tables of the money changers in a fit of righteous anger. Now it is Monday of that week (we’ll stay in Holy Week for the next several Sundays). In today’s reading, Jesus tells us another parable, this one about wicked tenants who are called upon to care for a vineyard. They are not negligent in their duties, but they do lose sight of who really owns this vineyard… to tragic results. Jesus is not making any friends with this one – Matthew tells us that after telling this story, the chief priests and Pharisees want to arrest him, which they will do just three days later. 

The parable Jesus tells is one that Jesus’ listeners would definitely have recognized; it is a clear reference to our reading from Isaiah – a love-song about how God cared for this vineyard and hoped for great things for it, but has been disappointed that it yields only rotten grapes. (Fun fact: the word for “rotten grapes” means something like, “stink-berries,” which makes me giggle.) 

Today we begin a series on stewardship, and this week’s theme is about the story of stewardship, not ownership. What’s the difference? See if you can spot it in these readings. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Jesus loved to teach using stories. Parables, we call them. And I gotta say, I think it’s a brilliant idea. Because stories are dynamic. They can get at a truth in a relatable way, a way that strict facts simply can’t, and they can exaggerate certain elements for effect. They present deep truths in a playful way, and hearing that truth with a posture of play opens our minds to receive it. They tickle our imagination and help us to go deeper. What better mode to talk about the ways of God, who transcends all that is concrete and knowable! 

That’s why we decided to make this year’s stewardship campaign one that is based on the idea of story, the story of stewardship! Throughout the month, we’ll incorporate stories of various kinds into our ministry – for example, Story Matters gatherings, Bible stories around the campfire, personal stories shared during worship, individuals writing a money autobiography, and maybe even some videos throughout the month. As we share these stories, I hope that you will find new and compelling ways to enter God’s overarching story, and in particular, the story of stewardship.

It’s appropriate, then, that we start the month with one of Jesus’ own stories: the parable of the wicked tenants. I love how Jesus uses this troubling narrative about a landowner who lovingly builds a vineyard, just like the one in today’s reading from Isaiah. He entrusts it to some tenants, who care for it well enough… only they lose track of who actually owns this land. They are doing all the work, they think, and they are entitled to its fruits! They refuse to hand over the goods when the landowner’s servants come to collect. They get unreasonably violent in their opposition (this is one of those “exaggerated for effect” moments), because they are empowered by their own sense of entitlement and false ownership. Finally, the owner sends his own son, and they think this is their chance: kill the son, and the vineyard will be theirs! 

The brilliance of the story is that although it is tragic, it seems harmless enough as a story… but Jesus uses it to show the Pharisees the danger of their ways. The Pharisees think they are condemning these tenants who are undeniably wicked to a miserable death – until they realize that Jesus has used this story to cause them to condemn themselves! 

Ahh! That is the power of story, my friends! Taken at face value, it means one thing. Taken as an allegory, as this one traditionally is, it takes on a new meaning.

But a good story can go even deeper than that when we do the work of seeing ourselves in the story as well. We can start by asking some questions of the narrative. For example, what do we think is going on with these tenants? Why are they acting this way? What motivates them? And (and here’s the kicker), are we ever motivated by the same things, such that we act in similar ways? 

If I had to guess, I would say these tenants have lost the plot. They care for this vineyard, yes, but they did not build it. They do not own the land. They are workers in the field, entrusted with the care of the vineyard. Oh, but we humans do like to own things, don’t we? We love to have a place to call our own. We take pride in what is ours. It makes us feel settled, and successful, and safe. And so, when we work hard for something, we are resistant to letting it go – just like these tenants (who I no longer want to call wicked because I admit I’m starting to see myself in them!). They worked hard for the fruit of the land, and they believe it rightfully belongs to them.

But that was never the intention. The owner intended that the tenants would steward, or manage the land. The tenants would, in return, get a place to live, a place to work, a community, a livelihood, security, safety… but ultimately it did not belong to them. They were stewards, not owners.

Do you see yourself in the story yet? Have you ever been resistant to giving up what was entrusted to you – whether your time, your treasure, or other resources? Have you ever felt entitled to what you have earned because you worked hard for it, so why should you share? Or, taking a step out of the story itself: have you ever, like the Pharisees, condemned someone else’s actions, only to realize that you have behaved the same way? Have you ever resented someone for pointing that out to you?

The reality is that in our own stewardship stories that we could tell, we often confuse ownership with stewardship. We give ourselves a lot of credit for our various accomplishments and material success, and figure we are owed what we have. 

A wonderful little text that has become a part of my own stewardship story, especially as I consider the difference between ownership and stewardship, is from Luther’s Small Catechism, his explanation of the first article of the creed. It’s printed in your bulletin, right beside the creed. When we confess, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth,” Luther says that what this means is, 

I believe that God has created me

        and all that exists.

He has given me and still preserves

my body and soul with all their powers.

He provides me with food and clothing,

        home and family, daily work, 

        and all I need from day to day.

God also protects me in time of danger

        and guards me from every evil.

All this he does out of fatherly and divine

        goodness and mercy,

        though I do not deserve it.

Therefore I surely ought to thank and praise,

        serve and obey him.

This is most certainly true.

You see, when we confess that God is the creator of all, we are confessing that God is also the owner of all, and that we are entrusted with bits of God’s creation: our bodies and souls, our homes and families, our ability to work, all we need from day to day. And all this God does, not because we are entitled to it for being such good, hard-working people, but rather, “out of fatherly and divine goodness and mercy, though [we] do not deserve it.” That mindset is the difference between ownership and stewardship.

Luther also gives us some guidance on how to live into this stewardship mindset, to make it a part of our story. He writes, “[We] surely ought to thank and praise, serve and obey him.” What does that look like? How do thanking, praising, serving, and obeying become a part of our stewardship story?

First, we thank. We make a habit of thanking God for all that we have, because the very act of gratitude helps us to take notice, and give credit where credit is due. God has given to us, and we are humbled and grateful.

Next, we praise God, praise that God would honor us with these gifts – once again recognizing that it is only because of God’s fatherly and divine goodness and mercy that we have them at all, and we are filled with joy at what has been given to us.

Then, we serve, both God and neighbor, by using these God-given resources to make our communities and the world better. We make faithful and wise decisions with the money and other resources of which we are stewards, that have been entrusted to us, as individuals and as a Church. And we also remember to give some of that away to those who are in greater need. Letting some of our resources go to serve others is an essential practice for remembering who is the true owner.

And finally, we obey. How easy it is to fall into striving to accomplish the will of our own sinful hearts! But here we are reminded always to pursue not our will, but the will of the Divine Owner of all that we have.

So… how would you tell your own stewardship story? What are the key events, the turning points, the “a-ha” moments when God’s goodness became clear to you? When have you thanked, praised, served, and obeyed, and how did God show up for you in that? 

This week we will send out all the stewardship materials (pledge cards and whatnot), and included in that, as well as in the newsletter, you will find a tool called a Money Autobiography to help you begin to think about your own stewardship story. You can write it out, or just talk about it with God or a loved one. However you do it, I hope you will enter with me this month into exploring the story God is telling through your stewardship of his providence. 

As my closing prayer today, I’d like to have us read together Luther’s explanation of the first article of the creed, in the center fold of your bulletin. Let us pray…

I believe that God has created me

        and all that exists.

He has given me and still preserves

my body and soul with all their powers.

He provides me with food and clothing,

        home and family, daily work, 

        and all I need from day to day.

God also protects me in time of danger

        and guards me from every evil.

All this he does out of fatherly and divine

        goodness and mercy,

        though I do not deserve it.

Therefore I surely ought to thank and praise,

        serve and obey him.

This is most certainly true.


In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.