Sermon: Be salty, encouraging Christians (Sept. 30, 2012)

(Note: I didn't actually preach this today. I stayed home, while a couple laypeople read it for me! What a blessing to have congregations so concerned about my health that they insist I stay home and they cover Sunday morning!)

Pentecost 18B

Sept. 30, 2012 (adapt. from Sept. 27, 2009)

Mark 9:38-50

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

            Ok, be honest: how many of you cringed a bit when you heard the Gospel lesson just now? How many of you choked just a little bit when you said, “Praise to you, O Christ,” after a reading about maiming yourself and burning in hell? I know I did when I first read it. Passages like these are not the easiest to find some good news to preach, that’s for sure.

         But maybe that’s a good thing – passages like these also require extra love and care to read. They require more intentional reflection and meditation, more faith-filled reading and re-reading… and no one comes out of such deep reflection on the Word worse off for the effort!

         The first thing we need to do is to gain a deeper understanding of some of the shocking pieces that may overshadow the point of Jesus’ words. It helps to look at the passage as a sort of a three-part essay. The first part is this bit about the disciples trying to stop a man who was acting in Jesus’ name but not following them. Jesus answers, “Whoever is not against us is for us.” That’s his thesis statement. The rest of the passage goes on to show us what it means that, “whoever is not against us is for us.”

         The bulk of Jesus’ sermon – the part that is particularly difficult to digest – is this middle part, that shows us what “against us” might look like. He does this using some admittedly shocking language, language that doesn’t at all fit with the image of Jesus we prefer – the one who brings the little children to him, who heals the sick and loves the outsider, who brings peace on earth. This Jesus is, frankly, a little bit scary, and certainly not very likeable. At first read-through, this does not appear to be someone who is forgiving, as we know Jesus to be. This Jesus fits better into our perception of the Old Testament, where an-eye-for-an-eye is the standard for ordering society, for punishing wrong-doers. So where, here, is grace and forgiveness?

         First, let’s break down this seemingly harsh language. As is often the case with biblical interpretation, this is language that makes a lot more sense in the cultural and geographical context in which Jesus is living. Take, for example, “the unquenchable fire” of hell. “Hell” here is not what we usually mean when we think of hell. It is not a physical place, an eternal, fiery underworld where the devil lives. It is not even a spiritual hell that separates us from God for eternity. The word used in Greek here is “Gehenna,” which refers to an actual place, a sort of dump just outside the gates of Jerusalem. This Gehenna is where people threw all their waste – including the bodies of criminals and dead animals – and where there was a constant fire burning to purify the rubbish. Because of the undoubtedly horrid smell and heat of the fire, the word “Gehenna” came to mean something like what we call “hell,” where evil people, criminals, go for the afterlife. But in this context, Jesus is most likely talking about the place itself, located outside Jerusalem, the literal place where criminals go when they die.

         Next let’s try to understand this theologically and practically for our lives. The whole section could be summarized with, “Don’t do anything that causes anyone – yourself or others – to stumble in their life of faith.” His first admonition is regarding causing “one of these little ones” to stumble. These little ones could be anyone, but especially those who are young in their faith. A couple weeks ago, we heard Jesus call Peter “satan,” another word for which is “adversary” – in other words, one who stands between a person and God. Here again Jesus is warning against standing between a person (especially a person young in their faith) and their relationship with God. So essentially he is saying, “Don’t keep someone from faith.” THAT behavior would be “against us,” against God. Rather than be speed bumps or barriers to people’s prayer life, Jesus urges us to help people along the way – perhaps by inviting them to church or to any number of other events we have. Pray for them. Pray with them. Talk about how your relationship with Christ has made your life better. Encourage, don’t block.

The next series of three admonitions Jesus gives us are regarding our own faith life. If your hand, or your foot, or your eye cause you to stumble, he says, cut them off. If your feet carry you somewhere you shouldn’t be, into a situation where you will be tempted to sin, cut it off. If your hand does something hurtful to another – perhaps writing a nasty note, or pushing someone away – cut it off. If your wandering eye starts to watch things that it shouldn’t, cut it out. But, as Jesus often speaks metaphorically, I believe he is speaking metaphorically here as well. His intention is not to cut off the foot, or hand, or eye itself, but rather to cut off the source of sin. Find what is causing you to sin, and cut that out of your life. Perhaps it is laziness – I know I ought to read my Bible more, but it takes so much effort sometimes. Or maybe it is busy-ness – I’d like to join this or that committee, but I just have too much to do. Maybe it’s your own pride – I probably should get out there and help with road clean-up, but I don’t want people to see me in that orange vest picking up trash… what would people think? There are lots of other things that cause us to sin, that get in the way of our relationship with Christ.

And finally, we come to the conclusion of Jesus’ essay – what I remember as a student calling the “so what?” So we know now what not to do, and even what to do instead. So what? In Jesus’ typical cryptic way, he starts talking about salt. “Everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” Salt is not typically one of the first Christian symbols that come to mind, but it is certainly a powerful one. Salt is full of symbolism that describes our Christian life – the life that Jesus is urging us to live, as opposed to a life that causes people to stumble. Just think: what are some ways salt is used?

Salt is a preservative. So Christians who have salt in themselves have preserved the faith of Christ in their own lives – through the waters of baptism, and every time we come to this table to remember Christ’s sacrifice on our behalf, as he died for us on the cross to bring us life and salvation. In fact, historic baptismal rites always included putting salt on the lips of the child being baptized as a symbol of this preservation in faith.

What else? Salt is a purifier, a cleanser. Anyone who wears contact lenses uses saline solution to clean them. Some dental hygienists even recommend using salt water rather than Listerine! So, as “salty Christians,” we have been cleaned of our sins, purified. Similarly, we can be purifiers of the tainted world around us – by serving others in Christ’s name, and by helping them along in their faith journey rather than causing them to stumble.

Another use of salt: it heals. As soon as you start to get that sore throat, out comes the salt water and the gargling begins. So we are called, as salt of the earth Christians, to heal the world, to pick up those who stumble, to bring solace to a world in pain by sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Perhaps the most common use for salt is as a seasoning – just a little bit can bring out the best flavors in a meal, just as exposure to the gospel can bring out the best in life.

Salt is enduring. Jesus talks about salt that has lost its saltiness, but of course that cannot happen – salt cannot loose its saltiness unless its chemical make up in changed, in which case it is no longer salt. So when we have salt in ourselves, we bear the strength and endurance of Christ.

Finally, salt produces thirst – a thirst for God’s Word, a thirst for a relationship with God, a thirst for the righteousness of God.

So after all that, what can we make of Jesus’ original thesis: “whoever is not against us is for us.” Well, these are the ways that we are and act “for Jesus” – by practicing these characteristics of salt, by having salt in ourselves. By not causing yourself or others to stumble, but rather, by living a life that preserves the faith of Christ in your own life, that purifies your own actions and the actions of the world around you, that heals the effects of sin on the world, that brings solace to the downhearted, that brings out the best flavors of life that only the gospel can reveal, by enduring in a life pointed toward God, and by producing a thirst in yourself and others to grow ever closer to God. By having salt in ourselves, may we be at peace with one another.

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

Itchy nose and (hopefully) cancer-free!

Between my nose itching and my phone buzzing all day yesterday, I know how many of you were thinking and praying for me yesterday. Many thanks! I felt upheld in so many ways.

Everything went really well yesterday! Michael and I showed up at the hospital at 8:25am for my "wire loc." I was in a perky mood, making jokes and whatnot. Michael and I noticed that, while we are both extroverts, on this particular morning, I was externalizing everything and he was internalizing. Of course, that had something to do with our respective positions in this ordeal - I am the one who has something to do, and has some control over my body, and he is the one who has to sit by and feel helpless and watch me be in pain. My take on yesterday's part of the journey was this: up until now, every procedure has had an unknown and possibly devastating outcome. This time, though the procedure was a much bigger deal, I knew what the outcome was, and that it was good. By the end of the day, I would be cancer free! That made everything along the way totally worth it.

That said, the wire loc was not my favorite thing, and as it proceeded, my initial perkiness faded somewhat. My breast was not fully healed from the procedure last week, but now they were squeezing, and moving, and squashing the poor thing in the mammogram machine, then finally numbing it (painful in itself), then coming in from underneath to put a big needle in, only to find that it was in the wrong place and we had to do it all again. Once they were successful, they stuck the wire through the needle, took out the needle, and taped the wire up against my skin. Then they put me in a wheelchair and went to get Michael, and I heard an unknown guy say, "That's not my fiance." Then a nurse, "Oops, wrong fiance!" Then they fetched the correct guy, and off we went. (Phew!)

My time in the pre-op area was long, though I did actually get into surgery earlier than expected. While in pre-op, Dr. Skinner came in to say hello and check in. I like her more every time I see her. She said they would be taking about a walnut sized amount of tissue out, and was generally very calming. Then off she went. One sort of traumatic thing about pre-op was trying to get the IV in. They were working on my hand/wrist, and could sort of get the veins to come out (despite my being cold, hungry, and dehydrated from fasting), but the veins were "wiggly." They finally gave up after a couple attempts, leaving a big bruise. Later, the anesthesiologist was successful, after quite a bit of flicking the already bruised back of my hand. OUCH. Honestly, that was the most painful part of this ordeal.

The nurses and care and conversation in the two different pre-op areas were all wonderful and friendly and funny, and, all things considered, it was a pretty okay experience. But honestly, the parts of that experience that are the most vivid memories are with Michael - stroking my hair, holding my hand (tenderly, and also letting me squeeze the heck out of it during the whole IV failure episode)... We talked about our lives together, past, present and future. We said loving words to each other, and gazed at each other with a depth of love that is different than we'd experienced ever before. I do love that man. I can't think of a better partner to be going through this with.

Finally, the second anesthesiologist came in. After chatting for a while, she said to Michael, "All right get your hugs and kisses in now, cuz she won't remember later!" Then she gave me the happy relaxing medicine, and wheeled me toward the OR. For some reason, I told her jokes all the way there. "Charles Dickens walks into a bar and orders a martini, and the bartender says, 'Olive, or twist?'" (you have to say it aloud to get it) "A man gets a knock on the door, and he answers it and there's a snail on the stoop. The man takes the snail and throws it in the garden. Three years later, there's another knock at the door, and the the man answers and there's the snail, who says, 'Dude! What was THAT all about?!'" She liked that one. She made me tell the OR folks the jokes, which I did, and they laughed. Then someone else told the joke about the string where the punchline is, "I'm a frayed knot," but her delivery wasn't great, and Dr. Skinner told her so. I said, "Maybe if you'd said it this way..." and everyone agreed that was better. (I'm such a snot! Who do I think I am, correcting people's joke delivery, especially people about to save my life?) Then they put the magic sleepy mask on and then I was suddenly in the post-op area. (So weird.)

After she finished, Dr. Skinner came out and talked to Michael, said everything went well, and that all of the tissue around what they took out looked very healthy, so they were confident. Hooray, relief! She said he could come see me in an hour. He waited an hour... then an hour and a half... then two hours... Meanwhile, the nurse told me that they hadn't been able to find him! She referred to me as Kathryn, which I thought was strange (my middle name), but as she left to find him again, I realized, "They're asking for Kathryn's family!" Sure enough, it took another 20 min for a flustered but relieved  Michael to come back to me. I asked if they had called for a Kathryn, and he said yes! "The Kathryn family!" And no one ever responded! Frustrating.

I ended up staying in post-op quite a while because I was pretty nauseous. After I successfully took a walk down the hall and kept down some gingerale and crackers, and Michael had retrieved my Vicodin from the pharmacy, we left - around 6pm! The rest of the night was a lot of calling loved ones, lying still, and watching NBC Thursday night television. I was SO grateful to have Michael there. And now, as I write this, my dad is in a rented car on his way from the Buffalo airport. He changed his flight home from Chicago at the last minute so he could be with me today (leaves tomorrow morning). What a lucky daughter. Maybe I'll even help him with his sermon for Sunday. ;)

Hopefully the pathology will be done in time for my post-op, Wednesday of next week. The following week I will have an appointment with Dr. Skinner (who is out of town next week). At some point, I will meet with a general oncologist and the radiation oncologist. Fun times ahead!

The Planner is happy

The planner in me is feeling so good right now, because I have a SCHEDULE for what's happening tomorrow! I love schedules!!

8:30am - arrive at breast care center for wire loc. This is a procedure in which a wire is put in my breast to direct the surgeon to the area where the cancer is. After the biopsy that led to this diagnosis, the doctor left a little chip in there, so that's how they'll find it.

10:00am - arrive at surgical center in basement. They will begin prepping me for surgery, I'll talk to the anesthesiologist, get an IV, stuff like that. In my mind, this looks much like the scene in The Wizard of Oz where everyone's getting ready to see the wizard, the Cowardly Lion gets a haircut and ribbons in his mane, etc. I'm just sure it will be exactly like that, except minus the "cowardly." Only bravery here.

1:45pm - Complete with lion-esque ribbons (aka IV), I will be wheeled into the OR. Up to this point, Michael will be able to be there with me (hooray!), but here I'm on my own, which is fine because I'll be sleeping anyway. The procedure lasts about an hour and a half.

3:15pm - complete surgery, go to recovery. I will stay in recovery until I can keep down liquids and all that jazz.

Sometime Later - go home and party about being cancer-free. By which I mean, probably go back to sleep.

Six Weeks From Now - They will wait until I am completely healed before they start damaging my breast tissue with radiation (so considerate). So, I'll start radiation I guess in early November, and go for 6 weeks.

All right, let's do this thing! Oh by the way, I have decided to take Sunday off, after much urging from many people. So some wonderful lay people will read the sermon I had already prepared, and lead worship. Works for me!

Thanks for the continued prayers and good thoughts! Keep 'em coming! I'll let you know how it goes...

Thursday, for realsies

I was told yesterday that I should count on not having surgery today. So today I woke up, got ready in the normal way, made myself a nice breakfast of a banana and a bowl of cereal, and then the phone rang. "Dr. Skinner wants to get you in this afternoon." Wha?? "But you can't eat anything." Too late. I seriously considered offering to try to throw it up, but decided against it. So they asked anesthesiology what they thought, and they don't feel comfortable doing this with food in my stomach. Dang it! If I had slept in 10 more minutes this morning, and I could be getting rid of this cancer today.

So now the surgery is on Thursday, for realsies. My dear, sweet fiance is celebrating a Big Birthday that day, so I said my gift to him is an excuse to take the day off of work, and instead spend the day in a hospital waiting room, and then caring for a groggy Johanna. (No putting on a cute dress and going out to dinner that night, though. Oh well.) He said my real birthday present to him is a cancer-free fiance, which is about the best gift he can imagine. Hopefully his cancer-free fiance will also be able to attend his birthday party this weekend. Maybe we can just prop me up in a comfortable seat for the night, and not make me move.

I am told the recovery for this is pretty quick. The nurse thought about three days later, I'd feel fine. (Which brings us to Sunday, and the dilemma of whether or not to take Sunday off...) I asked how long after surgery we would start radiation. She said usually they wait 6 weeks (!). That puts me starting radiation in November, and continuing into mid-December. Merry Christmas - here's your health, all wrapped up in a radiation burned and fatigued body! Advent programming this year might need to be somewhat less...

For those who like twists and turns

Turns out, I'm not having surgery tomorrow. Why? you ask. Because I didn't get on the schedule. They didn't know to schedule me. Yes, true story, the reason is that dumb.

I called today after 2:30, as I was instructed, to find out what time my surgery would be. They couldn't find me on the calendar. Checked several ways. Finally I was put in touch with the scheduling girl, and she said she had no nothing that said I was supposed to have surgery. I explained that this had been on the calendar since Sept. 6, and I had all the pre-op info, and the surgeon had said to me, "See you on Tuesday," so I knew I had it right. She said she was sorry, but had nothing on me, and since they could not get in touch with my surgeon (who I later learned had gone home sick earlier that afternoon), there wasn't anything she could do. This has never happened before, so she didn't know what to tell me. I hung up the phone having no idea what to feel, which of course caused me to cry - a strange cry, where I couldn't seem to get the emotion out (whatever it was), like it was getting stuck on something on its way out. A few minutes later, the plastic surgeon who had sown me up last week called. "How are you?" he asked, to which I answered, "I don't know." He said, "Yeah, we're confused, too. We don't know what happened. We put the order in, but somehow it didn't come through." So what happens next? They're going to see about getting me in on Thursday, which is Michael's birthday (happy birthday, dearest... on my birthday this year we got to have my first biopsy, so this would be right on par). Unfortunately, while tomorrow worked for all the important people to be there, Thursday is quite a bit trickier. We can make it work, but there might be some tag-teaming in the waiting room. But if they can't get me in Thursday, Dr. Skinner is out of town next week, so I'd have to wait two weeks to do this thing. Not really interested in that.

Have I mentioned this is getting old? Get the cancer out already!

So I honestly don't know what I feel right now. Discouraged, definitely, but more than that. You get your head around something, you know, and prepare yourself for it emotionally, let the people know who need to know, get done what needs to get done... and then it all changes. It sucks, plain and simple. I was diagnosed a month ago today. I started all this testing the second week in July. I have just enough emotional stamina to make it through this with grace, but not enough to manage all these twists and turns with a smile, that's for sure. So tonight has been a lot more tears than smiles. Michael soaked up many of them, as he held my hand and prayed aloud for God to provide me with the strength I need to handle this, and told me over and over what has been the theme of the season: "I gotcha. I gotcha. We're gonna get through this. If you don't have the emotional stamina, lean on me and all the people who love you."

So. You can put your urgent during-surgery prayers and positive thoughts on hold for a few days. I'll keep you posted. 

(In other news, I had my first congregation-bringing-pastor-meals meal tonight, and it was delicious and totally made my night. Winter squash soup, YUM!)

Beautiful

Today gets two posts because it is such a beautiful day. I told both of my churches this morning of the wonderful news I received this week. The outpouring of love from them has been so remarkable, and so wonderfully unique to who they both are. After worship last week as well as today, some folks from one church gathered round me and laid hands on me and offered prayers of healing. What a lovely moment when a congregation can pray in this way for their pastor. At the other church, I was surprised at coffee hour to find a cake - celebrating my having been with them for one year, and also my engagement (Michael's name was on it too!), and also, they added, to celebrate my good news. Two beautiful expressions of care, both of which made me feel so in the right place, so surrounded in love, and so, so blessed. Thank you, God!

Sermon: Asking Questions and Looking Dumb (both are okay!) (Sept. 23, 2012)

Many thanks to my dear friend Victoria, who helped me write and preach this sermon this morning. It was a big hit with my congregations! Hope you enjoy.
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Pentecost 17B

Sept. 23, 2012

Mark 9:30-37

Victoria: There was a video floating around Facebook a few months back, as they often do, of a 4th grade boy at a town hall meeting in New Orleans, at which President Obama was in attendance. During the time when people could ask questions, the kid raises his hand, and President Obama goes over to him. After introducing himself, the kid asks his question: “Why do people hate you? They’re supposed to love you. God is love.” Gutsy kid! It’s a legitimate question, of course, but what adult do you know who would ask such a question of such an important person as the president of the United States of America!

Filters aren’t something you’re born with; they’re something you develop as you mature. Anyone who has kids or encounters kids knows how delightful, hilarious, and often wise the unfiltered remarks of kids can be. But in an adult? Such candidness is not so charming. In today’s gospel we see the disciples operating with some good filters, don’t we? No one wants to be caught out asking Jesus what he means when he says he’s going to suffer, die, and be raised. No one wants to be that guy, the guy who raises his hand and gets all the dirty looks from the people who know what’s going on!

(exaggerated) Well, thank goodness we’ve come a long way since the disciples. We’ve had two thousand years to figure out this faith thing! Anytime you have a question about faith, or about something in the Bible, the Christian tradition can hand you all the answers you want. Thank goodness, we don’t really need to display our ignorance by asking questions anymore! We’ve got it all down in this book. (Points to Bible.) You got questions, Jesus got answers. God said it, I believe it, and that settles it.

Johanna: Uhm, Victoria?... (raises hand)

Victoria: Um...because being Christians gives us that kind of assurance. We have this divine Word to help us live our lives. Being Christian means never having to end a sentence with a question mark.

Johanna: (waves hand frantically, and snapping)

Victoria: (trying not to see her) That’s what Jesus means when he gives us children as models of faith. The goal is to accept with child-like faith that God is right, even if you don’t understand what God’s saying...that’s what the disciples are modeling for us in today’s Gospel. They don’t understand what Jesus is saying, but they know that Jesus is Lord. So they don’t raise their hand! (looking pointedly at Johanna)

Johanna: (has aneurism in front pew)

Victoria: ...Johanna? Do you have something to add?

Johanna: Yeah, sorry, I’m just not so sure that’s quite right. I know I said you could preach today and I told everyone that you’d do a good job and everything, but... what you’re saying just doesn’t sit well with me.

Victoria: What part of that doesn’t sit well with you?

Johanna: Well, first of all, it seems, according to the Gospel reading, that doubt and questions have been a part of faith from the very beginning.

Victoria: Well, sure, but that doesn’t mean that it’s GOOD to have doubts...

Johanna: I just mean, you seem to be saying that if you have faith, it means that you can’t have any questions. But when I read this text, I see here that the first disciples did have questions, but that they were afraid to ask. To me, the problem with this isn’t the having questions, but the being afraid to ask. It’s the fear that’s concerning.

Victoria: I can’t believe you’re calling me out in front of your entire congregation.

Johanna: Well, I had a question... and I wasn’t afraid to ask it!

Victoria: No, seriously, THIS is why I don’t ask questions. Because someone...someone like YOU... ALWAYS knows better than I do, and by showing my ignorance you’re just showing how vulnerable I am.

Johanna: You know... I wouldn’t be surprised if vulnerable is exactly how the disciples felt.

Victoria: I’m sorry, would YOU like to preach this sermon?

Johanna: No, not really. (sits down)

Victoria. OK then. Um...(tries to find place in notes)

Johanna: It’s just that... (stands up, takes over) Here Jesus has just told them about how he’s going to be betrayed and suffer and die, and then rise again, that this is what the Son of Man has to do. This is now the second time he’s told them that, but it’s still really hard for them to understand. Heck, it’s hard for ME to understand, even 2000 years later! If you don’t have questions about the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection, then you’re probably not paying attention.

Victoria: Hey, I’m paying attention! And I do have questions. But I don’t like to ask them in front of everyone when I can just look them up on my own.

Johanna: But why not bring it up with your community of faith? This is the place to ask them! This teaching is difficult, and we need to spend time thinking about it and talking about it and asking about it...I think the church is a great place to do that! What’s so unfaithful about asking God questions?

Victoria: Because God is ineffable. Ineffable! I mean, part of God is revealed in Jesus Christ, this real man that walked the earth who helped us to better understand God’s character... but really, there’s a part of God that’s just fundamentally mysterious, that we’ll never fully understand. It feels WRONG to question God...presumptuous...I mean, who am I to ask God about God’s plan for the cosmos? Aren’t there questions that you’re afraid to ask God?

Johanna: Well sure, of course there are. And that’s a good point. But that brings us back to some of what you were saying earlier – that asking questions makes us admit our vulnerability, our lack of knowing... You might say, it forces us to realize that God knows, and we don’t, and that that is okay!

Victoria: Well, yeah...God does know. Yeah, ok. I can get on board with that.

Johanna: I really didn’t mean to shang-hai your sermon. Please, continue. (sits down)

Victoria: Yeah, absolutely. I can just...(riffles pages, then looks up) ...There’s another reason I don’t like to ask God questions.

Johanna: What’s that?

Victoria: ...I don’t want to say.

Johanna: Come on...

Victoria: It just sounds weird for a seminarian to say it. People are going to judge me.

Johanna: No, they won’t! We were just talking about bringing our questions to the community of faith – we won’t judge you now! Will we? (ask congregation, congregation claps in agreement) See? These are lovely, nonjudgmental people! Go ahead.

Victoria: Well, I mean...in my heart of hearts...I’m kind of afraid that if I ask God too many questions, God is going to make me the answer.

Johanna: Hmm... say more about that.

Victoria: C’mon...look at what God does with people who get all up in God’s business! Just look at Mary. Here’s this young girl, unmarried, probably about 13, and she’s probably wondering, “God, what do you have in store for my life?” And then God is like, “BAM! Here’s an answer! How about an unplanned pregnancy out of wedlock, and by the way, you’ll be carrying the Son of God, a child who’s born to die?”

Johanna: Yeah…

Victoria: And then look at Jeremiah in our first reading today. When he was just a boy, when God first called him to prophesy, he said, “How can I do that, I’m only a boy?” He becomes a prophet anyway, and then, BAM! “Here’s an answer! I’ll put words in your mouth so you can prophesy.” And now he’s dealing with all this suffering and persecution - he even refers to himself as “a gentle lamb that was led to slaughter.” I’m sure that’s not quite what he had in mind when he asked God, “How can I do that?”!

Johanna: No, probably not.

Victoria: And then there’s the disciples, right? Like Peter! He’s out one day, it’s a nice day, he’s fishing, guys love to fish, you know? And then Jesus comes along, and he’s like, “Follow me!”, and Peter’s like, “Ok!” and then he asks that question, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!” And Jesus is like, “Good question, Peter. BAM! Here’s an answer! You’re the rock on whom I’ll build my church.” And then a couple decades later, Peter dies upside down on a cross in Rome!

Johanna: It’s a tough life, that’s for sure.

Victoria: So there’s just a part of me that’s a little bit worried that my baptism might have been God going, “BAM! I’m going to make you the answer.” I mean, how else did I end up in seminary? I wanted to be an astronaut! I went to space camp, I was all ready! But now I’m going to be a pastor! And I bet there are people here today who ended up doing stuff they never dreamed of doing, right? (asks congregation) All because God made them the answer to a need!

Johanna: Vocation sure ain’t easy.

Victoria: (deflating) No...It sure ain’t.

Johanna: (stand up) But I think in our baptism, it’s not just a call, or a demand, but an assurance...not like the assurance you talked about earlier, the kind where you take things at face value and don’t ask questions. No, it’s an assurance that God is with us, wherever we go, and that means that we don’t have to be afraid - to ask questions, to have doubts, even to yell at God that we don’t understand what God is doing with our lives!

Victoria: I know we receive assurance in the words of absolution, or forgiveness, after confession, or in the words, “This is my body, given for you.” This is the same assurance, isn’t it?

Johanna: Exactly!

Victoria: But it’s not assurance that’s telling us that we need to know everything - especially not everything about God.

Johanna: Preach it, sister!

Victoria: So you’re saying that the model we should lift up out of today’s gospel isn’t the disciples who were afraid to ask questions, but the little child. The one who doesn’t know everything, who is vulnerable, who is the “least” among us, but who also isn’t afraid to ask questions. The one without filters...like the kid who asked Obama why people hated him.

Johanna: Yeah, I think that God wants to know our deepest questions and desires, our most nagging doubts as well as our greatest joys.

Victoria: You know, when you look at it that way... There is something beautiful about making ourselves vulnerable, and asking those questions that scare us – asking each other, but also asking God. Because when we do that, we have a chance to learn more about God, and more about ourselves in the process.

Johanna: And that doesn’t mean our faith is any less. In fact, I’d say it shows that we crave a closer relationship with the God who created us, who redeemed us through God’s Son, and who continues to work in us and in the church.

Victoria: Well, that’ll preach!

Johanna: Hey, Victoria?

Victoria: Yes, Johanna?

Johanna: How about, since you’re the preacher today, you close us in prayer?

Victoria: Gladly! Let us pray...
Ineffable, mysterious God, we have so many questions. Grant us the courage to ask those questions, even as we strive to understand you and our faith in you more deeply and more wholly. And in our asking, guide our hearts always toward you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.