Roots and Fruits

“For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under the law but under grace” (Romans 6:14). This Sunday we explore what it means to live in Christ, without the possibility to sin.

Baptism into Christ is both a Christian’s greatest comfort and assurance, and the sinners' greatest fear. Therefore you are always caught in the middle between new and old, comfort and fear. On one hand, you have the promise of forgiveness and eternal life from Christ – but it’s only a promise. And on the other hand, you have yourself, your talents, your accomplishments and (most importantly) your heart. Which one rules you?

We all hope, in vain, that we can keep both. We imagine that baptism is just a washing off of some dirt that surrounds our life. But Romans 6 insists that it is far more. Baptism unites us with Christ, specifically it unites us with his death and life, and therefore baptism is both the beginning of our life in Christ and the end of our life in ourselves. It cannot be any other way. For all that you do, earn, or produce leads to death, and everything that Christ gives is life. “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

Death Un – Done

At the conclusion of this week’s focus on Chapter 6, in our summer series on the Book of Romans, St. Paul witnesses: “For the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23; RSV). A good deal of the first half of St. Paul’s letter is spent showing how Sin and Death go together. He wants us to understand that death is not simply a natural process, but a Power (cf. Ephesians 6:11) linked with Sin to deal destruction to our human race.

This is not a popular concept in our optimistic, positive-thinking America, but the great writers have understood it – especially the great prophetic playwrights of 20th century America. One such playwright was Tennessee Williams. Today, if you take a walking tour of the French Quarter in New Orleans, you’ll see the house on St. Peter Street where “Tennessee” wrote his most famous play – while living on the third floor. He’d been tinkering with various titles for it – making his final decision when he realized that the house he was living in was located between two streetcar lines. One streetcar went in one direction to Desire, the other went the opposite direction to Cemeteries. There it is: Sin (desire) and Death (cemeteries). The devices and desire of our own hearts’ imprison us in Sin, and “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23; cf. 7:24). And we all live in this house. So are we stuck here? … Is this our permanent address? …

 In Chapter 6 of Romans, St. Paul leaves behind the long descriptions of how we have fallen into the grip of Sin and launches into a kind of rhapsody about what happens to Christians when we are baptized.  

“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus
were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death,
so that [and here comes the life-giving good news!] as Christ was raised from the dead
by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:3-4)

This coming weekend, think about your own baptism and the baptism of your children, and others whom you love (such as little Michael, Christian, and Carson who will be baptized into the life of Christ this weekend, among our family of faith at First Lutheran). Think also on this: all the things we find upsetting about ourselves, the habits we cannot seem to shake, the personality traits that get us in trouble, the secret obsessions and perversions that we struggle to hide even from ourselves – all of this has been put to death. Yes, as St. Paul and Martin Luther observe: the old Adam in us still weighs us down with sin; however, because we now live in Christ, the new Adam … sin and death no longer determine us (Romans 5:12-18; cf. I Corinthians 5:15). We are sinners, yes, but everything has changed because we are now justified sinners by God’s saving grace in Christ – who has overcome our Sin and Death by taking it upon himself.

In the biography, "Conversations with Tennessee Williams" by Albert Devlin, we learn that the house Williams finally owned and lived in on Toulouse Street was not his first choice. Rather, he had wanted to buy a large old Victorian on the corner of Orleans and Dauphine. The reason he wanted it was that the upper windows afforded a view of the statue of Christ behind the St. Louis Cathedral. Christ is lifting his hands in blessing, and at night the spotlights cast a shadow much larger than the statue itself, making the statue’s embrace seem universal. Tennessee said that it seemed to him as if Christ was comforting the suffering world and it gave him a sense of peace to look at it. Perhaps Tennessee had the Psalmist’s word of blessed assurance in mind, even in the valley of the shadow: “And I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever” (Psalm 23:6b). Another sage author, with deep insight into our fallen, yet redeemed human condition in Christ’s resurrection, shares this amazing witness:

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so …
Why swellest thou thee? One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.”
(John Donne; Holy Sonnets #10)

Bring your “swim-suits” this weekend…
We’ll be having baptisms at every worship service :) How perfect!

John Christopherson
Senior Pastor

Hope in the Face of Suffering

This Sunday, we'll begin a summer sermon series on the Book of Romans. Out of our selected scripture passage for Sunday, we will focus in on these famous words, written by the Apostle Paul:

"We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."

Yes, we'll reflect on what it means to live in this world as people of hope, even in the midst of suffering. We'll also reflect on how God alone, by the power of the Spirit, can lead us from a place of suffering into hopeful and joyful living.

We'll also keep coming back to this question: "How can we continue to live in this world as people of hope, even though many of our wishes may remain unfulfilled?"

I'll be honest; I still have a lot of work to do on my message for Sunday! For now, I will leave you with a prayer written by Henri Nouwen in his wonderful little book “With Open Hands.” In God's hands alone we place our reflections, questions, and prayers regarding suffering – for it is in God that we ultimately find rest for our aching and longing souls. 

Dear God,
I am full of wishes, 
full of desires,
full of expectations.
Some of them may be realized, many may not, but in the
midst of all my satisfactions and disappointments,
I hope in you.
I know that you will never leave me alone
and will fulfill your divine promises.
Even when it seems that things are not going my way,
I know that they are going your way
and in the end your way is the best way for me.
O Lord, strengthen my hope,
especially when my many wishes are not fulfilled.
Let me never forget that your name is Love.
Amen.

Amen, indeed. See you in church,
Pastor Katherine

All Authority

Jesus says that “all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). In the word authority, we normally hear echos of power and permission, like calling the “authorities.” The police show up, order is restored, and peace in the community resumes. That is certainly part of what Jesus is saying, but there is a whole other level to Jesus’ authority that is closer to that of an author of a novel, who writes and creates the story. Even more than enforcing peace and protecting freedom, Jesus has the authority to create an original peace, and to bestow freedom upon those bound in sin.

This is the work of the triune God, the Holy Trinity; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God comes into creation, which God created and called good - even though we experience it as sometimes bad - to redeem us from all that would hold us captive. Jesus is the author and giver of life, light, peace, and freedom to all who are powerless against death, darkness, chaos and bondage and by his creating word he sends us out to bring his creative and redeeming world to all in need.

That’s called the “Great Commission” (Matthew 28:19). Sent out to proclaim the kingdom of God, God’s new creation in Christ, not on our authority, but on Jesus’ authority. For he promises to be with us always, to the end of the age.

The Frozen Chosen

Holy Spirit Coming by He Qi, 2013

This weekend we celebrate the festival Sunday of Pentecost.  As you will note from its etymology, the word Pente-cost comes from the Latin or Greek root words for “fifty.”  Thus, it symbolizes the fullness of fifty days after the Passover/Easter events, when the Spirit of the risen Christ descended upon the disciples who were gathered together in Jerusalem, and then filled-to-the-brim with the Geist (“Spirit”) and gusto of Christ – to share his saving, gospel word.  Ten days prior to Pentecost, before Jesus ascended back into heaven, he had prepared his disciples hearts with these words of promised presence and divine direction: “But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8; RSV.  Cf. Matthew 28:18-20).

And so, as you’ve probably already inferred, Pentecost is often referred to by biblical scholars as “the birthday of the church.”  Note how Dr. Luke depicts the Pentecost event for us in our reading for this coming Sunday, in Acts 2.  I mean, it’s a real Barn-Burner!  Dr. Luke is drawing upon imagery here from Exodus 19 when God gives the Ten Commandments to Moses on Mt. Sinai: the wind is whipping, lightning and fire is flashing, the mountain top is enveloped in clouds of thick smoke.  And now, some 3500 years later, we see the disciples in the Acts 2 account so jazzed by the power of the Holy Spirit that they come down from their upper room apartment, running-out into the crowded streets of Jerusalem, and appearing as though they’d drunk a whole case of Red Bull with Tequila chasers!  They’re speaking in foreign tongues, waving their arms with joy, and sharing the gospel of Jesus’ death and resurrection for the forgiveness of sin and new life – with total strangers!  Just like any typical Lutheran congregation.  Right?!  However … there’s another account of Pentecost in the New Testament that we too often gloss-over, because it’s, well, too familiar.  Or maybe we just don’t pay close enough attention to the gentle breath marks of the score …

______________________________________________

This second account is not as hopped-up on adrenaline or full of bravado as most 21st century dramas go.  It’s not entertaining enough.  And … let’s be honest, it’s perhaps just too personal.  This second account of Pentecost I’m referring to is in our Gospel text for this weekend: from John 20:11-23.  It’s about locked doors and disciples hiding in the dark.  They’re frozen stiff.  They’re afraid of death.  I mean, look what happened to Jesus! … And so there’s a chilling silence of guilt and shame (as they had abandoned Christ, and had not yet heard anything more than just rumors of Jesus’ resurrection).  They felt like dirt.  But more importantly, through those locked doors and hearts enters the risen Christ, whose very presence begins to create a new body. Drawing here upon the imagery of Genesis 2:7, where God blows life even into the dirt of the earth – John’s account speaks of the dirt of sin and death that Jesus has also pushed back on that Easter morning.  And then, from out of nowhere … Jesus appears there … in the very midst of his cowering disciples, saying gently: “Peace be with you … as the Father has sent me, so now I send you … receive my Holy Spirit.”  And Jesus breathed on them.  And the Church was born.  Even among these Frozen Chosen.  And they are moved to tears of joy … melted for mission.

“People are the words through whom God continues to tell his story of  salvation.” (Edward Schillebeeckx; Church: The Human Story of God, p.xiii) 

 j.r. christopherson