"You are Witnesses of These Things" - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Luke 24:36b-48

Jesus Appears to His Disciples

36 While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 37 They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. 38 He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 41 While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 42 They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43 and he took it and ate in their presence.

44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46 and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things.

God of grace and mercy, help us to understand our new identity as witnesses to Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in the world, its importance to your mission in this season of Easter. Amen. 

The very last line of this morning’s gospel text strikes me. “You are witnesses of these things,” Jesus says. It’s a statement, not a question or even a command or commission. Jesus doesn’t say, “are you ready to be witnesses?” Or “whenever it’s convenient I’d like for you to be witnesses” or “in the next couple of years, please go be witnesses.” Jesus says, “you are witnesses of these things.” It is a declaration. For the disciples, being witnesses is not voluntary, it is a state of being. It is undeniably a part of their identity now because of what Christ has done in his life, death, and resurrection. 

I remember when I was younger, I would watch my dad leave for work wearing a flight suit and combat boots— his uniform as a pilot in the army. It was part of his identity and who he was for nearly 22 years, and in many ways it is still a part of his identity. But every evening he would come home and take that uniform off and I didn’t think of him as an Army pilot, but just as my dad, who let me put flowery clips in his hair and paint his nails on the weekend. 

There are many professions that have uniforms or certain dress codes, but we don’t wear those uniforms all the time. We take off the chef’s coat or the scrubs or the construction hat or the suit and tie and we can be seen as someone other than our profession or our job. In that way, what we do doesn’t have to be who we are. On the weekends or in the evenings, whenever we “clock out,” we can be someone or something entirely different if we want to. Just by changing our clothes. 

But that is not the case with our identity in Christ Jesus. 

This is what we learn when Jesus declares, “you are witnesses.” And this is what we hear at the beginning of the second reading: we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. We are God’s children now. This is the declaration we hear in our baptismal vows— whether we hear them when we are babies and our family and friends are making vows on our behalf or later in life— we are named and claimed as God’s children. 

When the waters of baptism wash over us, and when we are marked with the sign of the cross in oil, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever. And most of us affirm these vows and this commitment to Christ again in our confirmation and every time we witness another baptism in our community. Our identity is changed forever in that holy sacrament. 

The water that has cleansed us, the oil that has sealed a cross on our foreheads is not something that can be taken off. It doesn’t matter if we wear a cross necklace some days or a t-shirt announcing our Christianity to the world. God has made a declaration to us, that we are God’s children and our new identity in Christ not something we put on and take off like a jacket. It is who we are. 

In that way, our identity as witnesses, just like the disciples, is also who we are. What we do and say, how we treat others, how we interact with the world, is all witnessing to who we are as God’s children. 

Last week, I left you with a series of questions about if the resurrection made any difference at all in our lives. And this week Jesus declares that it does. Not that the resurrection should change us or that it has the potential change us, but that it does change us. Because we are witnesses to the risen Christ, and are baptized in the Spirit, we have been changed whether we completely understand it or not. 

And because of this change— our language, our behavior, our words and actions not only witness to who we are as children of God, but also how others see God to be. Let me repeat that— the way people see us is how people see God. We are never NOT giving witness to God in the world. 

And that is important to remember as we are faced with tragedy after tragedy across our country, it’s important to remember as we re-enter the world in public witness in person, and as we care for creation and one another after so much loss and as we continue to be faced with difficult times. We are witnesses not only to the wounds that Jesus shows us in his hands and his feet, but we touch and see that Jesus has been resurrected. And we are also witnesses to the wounds of this world. We are witnesses to the wounds of our siblings and to the re-creation that God is bringing about in the world through redemption and reconciliation.

There is no season like the season of Easter to get used to this witnessing. To be continually reminded that in everything we do, in everything we say, as well as everything we don’t do and everything we don’t say, we are witnessing to who we are are whose we are in light of the resurrection, the light of the flesh and blood of our Christ who meets us here in our own wounds, in the promise of our own resurrection. Amen. 

Finding Christ Outside of the Meal - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 24:13-35 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Walk to Emmaus

13 Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

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This sermon was preached by me for our April 26, 2020 morning prayer service for a specific context to a specific people. I hope that it can also speak to you amid the COVID-19 public health crisis. You can read my manuscript below or you can listen to the audio at this link. You can also watch the entire morning prayer service at this link. 

Let us pray. 

God who is known and recognized in the breaking of the bread, make yourself known to us now. Reveal yourself to us in this time when you often feel so distant. Amen. 

Like many people during this time of social distancing and isolation, I am finding myself having a bit more time for spiritual practices and things I wouldn’t normally have time for while I was working on campus regularly. In my newly found time, I have been helping lead a small group called “Abide.” We meet weekly and one of the purposes of the small group is to notice where God is present around us during this time and share it with our small group members. Because sometimes it feels like God is really far away when we are going through change, grief, or difficulties and we need to be reminded that God is, in fact present. 

So that’s what we do. We get together over video every week and talk about where God is in our lives. 

In the story we hear this morning, two of Jesus’ followers walk to Emmaus and Jesus walks with them, speaking to them, questioning them, reprimanding them a bit, and ultimately being present with them. But it is not until Jesus breaks bread with them that they recognize him. 

It’s hard for me to not relate to this story intensely. I, too, recognize Jesus most fully in the breaking of the bread, in the Holy Meal of Christ’s body and blood. I was told a few months ago that I preach about baptism and Holy Communion A LOT. It’s because they are my favorite things in the whole world. And I can be reminded of our baptism each week, but I get to see, and touch, and smell, and taste and even hear the breaking of the body and blood of Christ Jesus every week. It is so tactile and moves me so much. I sometimes joke that I became a priest just so I could be the first in line at this holy table. 

I know that is has been incredibly difficult not being present here at the church building to gather with one another in worship. I feel it too. But even more than that, we have been away from this table for so long. We have not been nourished by the body and blood for such a long time. We may have forgotten how it tastes, feels, sounds, smells, and looks. We may not even fully realize how much our hearts long for it right now. I feel it too, my beloveds. 

And I also recognize that I had taken it for granted. It was the way I MOST recognized Christ, which made it much more difficult for me to recognize Christ anywhere else. How can anything be as beautiful and perfect a reminder of our Jesus’ presence with us? 

And now that we cannot gather for the meal, this feast, now that we are not able to come to this table, are we able to recognize Jesus? 

Oh dear friends, it is difficult. When we have our normalcy and our routine is ripped out from under us, it is difficult to find God in the mess. But God does hear our cries and supplications. And even if we don’t recognize him, Jesus is with us along this road that is so full of disappointment and grief. 

Jesus is walking alongside us, bidding us keep walking, asking us to continue to hope. Just as Jesus was present on the road to Emmaus, he is present here with us now. Not even death could keep him from us. 

But I am reminded that this journey to Emmaus happens on the day of Jesus’ resurrection. On the same day that the women run from the tomb proclaiming the risen Christ, there are those who doubt and wait for more to be revealed. There are these two on the path stretched out before them, grieving the death of their friend and teacher, unable to comprehend the good news of the resurrection, unable to recognize their savior walking beside them. 

All this is to say that sometimes resurrection takes a while. Sometimes resurrection takes a few days, perhaps even several weeks. “Sometimes new life comes in fits and starts,” Debie Thomas tells us, “sometimes seeing and recognizing the risen Christ is hard.”

God is with us, even when we don’t recognize it. God is actually even more present with us when we don’t recognize God’s presence. 

Yes, of course, God is in the breaking of the bread, but God is in so much more than just that. 

That small group that I talked about before is called “Abide” for a reason. We come together each week as a small community to abide with one another, to abide in God’s presence, and remind one another that God abides with us. God is present with us when we gather in community and we need each other to be reminded on that because we so often forget. 

We forget that God is in morning prayer each Sunday, God is in our gathering together even if it is physically apart from one another. God is in the Zoom Bible studies and the food pantry ministry. God is in the text you send to your lonely neighbor and God is there on the evening walk with your family. God is there in the protective masks and the quiet, patient conversations you have with your children. 

As much as we long to be in this building together again, and I know we long for it, because even though I stand here, I long for your faces and your embrace and your presence. As much as we long to be here in this place we are reminded over and over again in this time that God is not confined here.

God is present in the meal, oh but God cannot be limited to the meal. And I thank God for that difficult but comforting reminder. 

I leave you with these wise words from Debie Thomas: “So keep walking.  Keep telling the story.  Keep honoring the stranger. Keep attending to your burning heart. Christ is risen. He is no less risen on the road to Emmaus than he is anywhere else.  So look for him.  Listen for him.  And when he lingers at your door, honoring your freedom, but yearning to feed you, say what he longs to hear:  Stay with me.”  And invite him in. Amen. 

Faith as Action - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 20:27-38 

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Question about the Resurrection

Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to him and asked him a question, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.”

Jesus said to them, “Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida on November 10, 2019. You can read the manuscript below, or you can listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

God of grace and mercy, teach us to have faith that goes beyond words and is incarnate in our every action. Amen. 

Our son Bennet is 15 months old and he is at the age that he doesn’t really listen to anything that we say, but it imitates almost everything that we do. It is both incredibly charming, and incredibly frightening. 

This means that when he sees me reading on a Saturday morning, he picks up a book, plops down on my lap, and pretends to read to himself. It means he is constantly on his dad’s lap at the piano, gently tapping on the keys and singing like dad does. 

But it also means that when we are too focused on our cell phones, he notices, and wants to scroll the screen too. And it means when we fuss at the dog or eat more snacks than we should, he sees us and wants to do the same. 

On Monday, I asked his pediatrician when he’d start listening to us instead of just watching us and imitating us. “Never,” she said. "That is how he learns. He’ll learn a little bit from what you say, but he is always watching and learning what you do. If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.” 

I’ve been reminding myself of that as I reflected on Father Wiley’s sermon from All Saints Sunday last week.

He spoke about the legacy of the saints who have come before us and the legacy that we are called to leave for the future of the church. And I began thinking about the legacy I want to leave for my son and his children, what do I want him to know about my faith and what I am committed to in this life? If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.

I don’t remember my parents ever talking about “stewardship” or “tithing” or even “offerings” when I was in school. I think I remember a check being written and an envelope being put into the offering plate each month. Generosity was never talked about in our house as far as I can remember, but I do remember the first time I understood what the word meant. 

My parents had heard about a woman, who we called Miss Martha, who ran a food pantry out of her house every week for people in her neighborhood, which was the neighborhood where we went to church. She barely stood at five feet tall and had a wicked attitude. Every couple of months, our congregation took loads of food to Miss Martha to help her in the ministry she was doing. One fall afternoon, my dad helped Miss Martha get into her big white pick up truck and she remarked that she wasn’t sure how much longer it would last and anyway, she was getting too old to get into it. 

On the way home, my parents hatched a plan and about six weeks later, right around Christmas, instead of food, we delivered Miss Martha a new car. I don’t think I even fully comprehended what we were doing at the time, but I knew that what my parents were doing is what people would call “generous.”

My parents’ generosity is what has made the practice of tithing so important in my own theology. A fellow pastor was recently asked what the most important spiritual discipline is in his life. He said people are always so surprised when he replies, “writing my monthly tithe check to my church.” Even I was surprised when he explained further: “you can sit in a pew to worship every Sunday and fake it, you can pray regularly and fake it, you can even read the Bible every day and fake it. But you can’t fake that money coming out of your bank account every month. It’s painful, and it is real. And it is a testament to your faith.” 

My parents never described their generosity to be painful, but I would imagine that at times it was.  Spiritual practices are not meant to be easy or casual, but they are meant to bring us closer to God. 

I suppose what is so striking to me about All Saints’ Day, as well as Veterans’ Day, and many other holidays that honor people, is that we almost never remember people for what they said or believed. We remember people for what they did. If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too.

Of course the greatest example is Jesus. It is much easier for us to remember the things Jesus did… he healed many people, he was often on boats with his disciples, he ate with people, like the meal we will eat here this morning. 

And it is far too easy to forget that besides “the Kingdom of God,” Jesus talked and taught about money more than anything else during his ministry. 

We remember people for what they do. And according to Jesus, what we do with our money is important. 

Now, I am a priest and a campus minister, so if you need some suggestions on what you could do with your money, I am happy to give you some great ideas after worship this morning. 

But I’d rather let you wonder about what you are leaving as your faith legacy. What do our actions say about God and our relationship with money in this busy consumeristic season of the holidays and beyond? What do our actions teach our children, our grandchildren, our great grandchildren and their children?

As I reflect on Job’s words from this morning— his wish to have his words written down, and as I remember Jesus’ words that "God is God not of the dead, but of the living.”

I can’t help but think of those words and actions that will continue living… the things that we do that will last beyond us, beyond our generation, and perhaps even beyond this church. 

God is doing something wild and wonderful in this place. If you haven’t witnessed it yet, stick around a little longer and I’m sure you’ll get a glimpse of it. What actions do we want remembered by those who come after us? What kind of faith? What kind of generosity? If we want someone to learn something, we’d better make sure we do it too. Amen. 

It's about God - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 18:9-14

⁹He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: ¹⁰“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. ¹²I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ ¹³But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ ¹⁴I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church on October 27, 2019. You can read the manuscript below or listen to the audio recording (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

Merciful God, fount of every blessing, remind us that you came among us to turn our expectations upside down, that you are God because of your unmeasurable and unexpected grace. Amen. 

Everything I read about this text this week has been something like 

TURN BACK 

BEWARE 

IT’S A TRAP! 

Which, of course, made me feel REALLY good about preaching this Sunday. But, here I am, trying my hardest not to walk into the trap that is this parable. 

Typically, I think parables are often more straightforward and honestly more fun than some other biblical passages. For the most part in parables, there are good people and bad people (and the moral of the story is mostly that you want to be the good person). Or if it’s a parable about God, then we are usually the lowly ones and God is the forgiving and wonderful one.

So obviously, where I want to start is: who are we in this particular parable? There are only really two people in the parable, three if we count God, but I don’t think we are meant to be God. So let’s think about it for a second: there’s a haughty pharisee who is so glad he is not like the tax collector. Then there is a tax collector who seems to be deep in sin but ultimately is leaving everything before God and humbling himself. Who are you in the story? 

Wait! Don’t think about it for too long! It’s a trap! 

If we say we are the humble tax collector, then we are probably saying something like, “I’m humble! I’m certainly not righteous like the pharisee!” But then, we are saying the exact same thing the pharisee prayed: Thank God I’m not like THAT person. 

And if we say we are the pharisee, we might be being more honest with ourselves, but it is pretty obvious that, in this story, we don’t *want* to be the pharisee. Because the pharisee divides God’s people into “me” and “them.” And that doesn’t sounds like the ideal Christian role model either, does it? 

So I could preach about how we need to humble ourselves before God, but then we run into the trap of how do we know how humble is humble enough? And once we become humble enough, we run the risk of being proud of how humble we are— and then we aren’t humble at all! 

The reason we encounter a trap everywhere we turn in this parable is because we always try to make it about us. And as long as we make this parable about us, we will always be the over-righteous pharisee instead of the humble tax collector. 

No matter which way we try to slice it, it doesn’t seem like we can put ourselves into this parable, like we are often inclined to do. 

Instead, we are invited to open this parable up and see that it is really about God. It is about our God who is so merciful and so world-altering that God is going to humble the exalted and exalt the humble. 

God can and will take the lowest of the low and exalt them — I mean tax collectors were the worst of the worst during that time. They were hated by people because they often cheated the poor out of the little money that they had. Tax collectors were also some of the only people that everyone had to answer to— the rich and poor alike paid taxes, so it ended up that tax collectors probably had very few friends and lived on the margins of society. 

But this humble tax collector is not the subject of this parable, God is. 

God, who came to us as the lowest of the low, a baby born of a virgin in Bethlehem. A fugitive from birth, and a nomad, traveling around with his pack of fishers and sinners. God, who heals women and widows, sent out demons, and was pushed to the margins… is the subject of this parable. 

Not us. 

This parable is about God— The God who creates light from darkness, raises the dead to life, and pulls us all— Pharisees and tax collectors, righteous and sinful, the law-abiders and the criminals, disciples and those with hearts that are prone to wander— God pulls us all into a realm of unimaginable and unexpected grace, mercy and joy.

God knows our hearts, and even then, God offers us grace. The difference between righteousness and justification is all about God’s action on our behalf. 

When we puff ourselves up, when we place ourselves above others to show off our accomplishments, we see no need for God’s grace, and though we may be living “right,” as long as we think we are responsible for our justification, we will still be unable to accept God’s mercy. 

When we recognize our inability to get it right, we throw ourselves on the mercy of one who loves us more abundantly than we can imagine.

We then trust God’s promise to protect and provide for us now, and when the time comes, to make us holy and justified according to God’s mercy and the forgiveness of our sins, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Faith - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 17:5-10

⁵The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” ⁶The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. ⁷“Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? ⁸Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? ⁹Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? ¹⁰So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, FL on October 6, 2019. You may read the transcript below, or listen to it (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. It was also our celebration of "Blessing of the Animals," which adds a little context to why my dog was with me that morning. 

God of mercy, help us to understand that we already have enough faith through your Son, Jesus Christ, to live our days in Christian obedience. Amen.

A few weekends ago, I attended a women’s retreat that focused on spiritual gifts. Before the retreat, we were all supposed to take a spiritual gifts assessment online and bring our results with us. 

As we began our conversations, I listened to various women confess, “well, it says my most prominent spiritual gift is faith, but I don’t know about that.” The other women, their friends who had come with them, and the one who listened to their stories over the weekend began shaking their heads. “Yes,” they said, “it is so obvious to us that faith is your spiritual gift. Just the way you walk through life and encounter people— it is certainly a prominent gift in your life.” 

The faithful women didn’t see big flashy, newspaper worthy signs of the faithfulness— maybe they never left their homes to live in poverty, perhaps they weren’t traditional ministers or nuns, maybe they’d never been recognized for their faith ever before that day. 

Whatever it was, they didn’t feel like they had “enough” faith, which is what the disciples were looking for in themselves because Jesus was asking them to do what they thought were big, huge, flashy things. The disciples had heard Jesus tell people about the true cost of discipleship— a lifestyle that would cost them not only their relationships, their livelihood, but ultimately their very lives. 

It’s really no wonder that the disciples were demanding Jesus to increase their faith, but Jesus obviously thinks it’s the wrong request. 

Faith, Jesus says in not so many words, is not something that can be measured, but something that has already been gifted to us— in ready abundance— by the Holy Spirit. Faith is something that we walk every day, obedience we called it, perhaps, as Jesus implies by his story of the slaves serving their masters. Faith is simply doing what we are told by God to do— nothing flashy, nothing worth praise or a news story. 

But the disciples didn’t want faith to simply make it through the day, they were asking for faith to do great works and great wonders according to their own desires. But this was not according to God’s own grace and love. 

But I understand the disciples’ cry for more faith— it would be nice if we were recognized a little more for how much faith we have, wouldn’t it? Just so we know we have enough. But the reality is that we do already have the faith that we need, and more than that, we already demonstrate that faith every day. 

God gives us enough faith through the Holy Spirit to continue in the Christian life, to continue to turn back toward God despite our sinfulness and temptations. Not flashy, but good and true and measured everyday faith. 

It’s the faith that Jesus speaks about at other times— not the faith of moving mountains or of uprooting a mulberry tree and throwing it into the sea. 

It is doing small, faithful things repeatedly. It is the faith of a mustard seed, the faith of salt and grain and ordinary life. 

Presbyterian pastor, Courtney Ellis says, “It is what we do in those ordinary times that matters most because those are the days that shape us most regularly.” God works in the minuscule things. God works in our every day, faithful acts of obedience. 

When we decide to turn toward our neighbor instead of away, God works in that small faithful act. When we spend an extra few minutes snuggling with our child at night, when we decide to just do this dishes instead of fussing at our spouse or roommate. God works in that small faithful act. When we prayerfully decide to commit a few extra dollar to the mission of the church this year, God works in that small faithful act. When we come to worship with our friends and family, when we bring our pets for a blessing. God works in that small faithful act. 

And God works in those small faithful acts day after day, even when we trip up and feel like we haven’t done a single faithful thing in weeks. Because God is faithful to us. And it is God’s faithfulness that keeps us moving toward the Kingdom.

There are countless examples of every day faithfulness in my life, people I can point to and say, “that’s exactly what God is like.” But the best example I could think of this week was Cooper, our seven year old husky here. 

We also have a one year old little boy, so every day Cooper is whacked with toys and bottles, he has his fur tugged on and pulled out, and he’s regularly used as a footstool. We don’t walk him as often as we should and he spends a lot of time at home sleeping. Yet he remains faithful. He is always calm and happy, always willing to stick close to our son and me when we do go on walks. Every day he demonstrates his obedience and devotion to us, despite the way we sometimes unknowingly neglect him. 

We see that kind of faithfulness in so many pets, service animals, and therapy animals. The faith of simply continuing to look forward to the next day, no knowing what it holds, but knowing that God is there guiding us and being faithful alongside us. 

And that faith might not be flashy or glamorous, it might not feel like a lot and some days it will feel like it is barely there, God works in that too. Amen. 

Lost & Found - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 15:1-10

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. ²And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” ³So he told them this parable: ⁴“Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? ⁵When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. ⁶And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ ⁷Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. ⁸“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? ⁹When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ ¹⁰Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

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The following sermon was preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on Sept 15, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church. You can read the sermon below or listen to it (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

God of joy and love, return us to you each time that we stray and remind us of our call to go out into the world and be with those who are lost. Amen. 

Losing and finding things is a very normal ritual in my family. I would venture to say that not a day goes by that I don’t get into the car, turn it on, jump out, and frantically go search the entire house for my cell phone. Or my wallet. Or that receipt I needed. Or my computer charger. 

I try to blame it on having a child or inanimate objects sprouting legs, but I know that that is not the case. I just lose things. A lot.

And it is so frustrating to me every time I do this. My husband Daniel will regularly watch me wandering around the house with my hands up in the air in frustration, mumbling to myself, going, “where did I put it?!” 

And instead of being grateful once I have found my lost things, I am embarrassed and annoyed and frustrated with myself. 

That does not sounds like our story this morning, does it? No, in both stories, Jesus describes people who are so overwhelmed with joy when they find their lost things. The shepherd and the woman are so excited to have found their sheep and coin that they invite all of their friends and family over to have a party in celebration.

The Pharisees and scribes are not delighted by these parables because they are people of rules, structure, and laws. I get that. It is comforting to many people, including the Pharisees and scribes, to know the rules, follow the rules, and understand the results of those actions. And for them, it is their way of life. And it is also how they relate to God. They understand their relationship with God to be a bit transactional— you abide by the rules and laws that have been given, and you get God’s favor and blessing in return. This is pretty much why the scribes and Pharisees existed— to be sure that the laws were passed down and to be sure people were abiding by them.

So I think we can understand why the scribes and Pharisees were a bit upset when Jesus seemed to be changing the rules on them. They understood God to be predictable and fit within a box, and Jesus was teaching hundreds and thousands that God is actually pretty unpredictable and reckless— at least when it comes to joy, love, and grace. 

Ultimately, that is what this story is about. 

Wherever we put ourselves when we listen to these parables of Jesus, we know that we have been lost in the sin of the world and found in baptism. It is impossible for us to be truly lost because we have the seal and sign of God’s everlasting and ever-present grace marked on our foreheads forever. Really, no matter how far you stray, you will never be truly lost. 

But we do wander, don’t we? We wander and we stray too far from God, we deny God’s image in our neighbors, we sometimes forget that creation is meant to be cared for instead of used. Sometimes we forget how precious a gift life and relationships are to us. And we stray away from our God who wants to keep us close. 

But God comes after us. God is searching after us with all of God’s intimate knowledge of us and true love for us. This is the constant work of God, to bring people back into the fold. 

And when God’s precious creatures are found, when we are brought back into relationship with God, when we choose to love our neighbors, when we deny the sting of death and look toward hope, when we work toward reconciliation, when we swing open our doors and welcome people in and dine with sinners and tax collectors, God is so filled with joy, that God just wants to shout it from the heavens and invite everyone to a feast in our honor. 

Think about these two parables: a man loses a sheep and when he finds it, he throws a party. A party. It’s ridiculous. Jesus knows it’s ridiculous, and he says it nonchalantly, “who wouldn’t do this?” And if this seems odd, Jesus tells a second story and doubles down on his claim. A woman loses one of her ten coins and when she finds it, she throws a party and invites all of her friends and family. For a woman with only ten coins, it doesn’t make any sense that she would host an extravagant party for such a mundane reason. It’s ridiculous and reckless even— we might think it a waste or irresponsible. 

That, Jesus says, is how God is with God’s grace for God’s people. Ridiculous, reckless even. There is be MORE joy in heaven, than even these two silly party-throwing people. God is wild and crazy about us. So much so, that God will celebrate us with reckless abandon. Seriously. I know that seems like a weird thing to preach about this morning, but I think we tend to forget it. We forget so quickly how much God adores us. 

It is so easy to believe that God is a God of wrath and fear and anger— I mean look at the Old Testament reading for today. But that is not what God is about. God is love, and God is all about abundance, and joy, and grace. When God’s lost creatures come back or are found, God isn’t embarrassed or frustrated or angry. God is reckless with joy and gratitude. God overflows with love. 

And out of that love comes our capacity to love. Out of the waters of baptism comes our ability, our privilege, and our call to proclaim God’s love to everyone else. As lost and found ones, we are called to go into the world and help in the searching and truly rejoice in the finding. 

And I believe that the only way we can truly take up this work is to remember our lost-ness and our found-ness. It is only when we truly recognize the grace that God has offered to us that we are able to proclaim it and offer it to others. 

So that is what I want us to remember this morning. God not only longs after you, spends hours searching and yearning after you, but God is overwhelmed with joy when you are found.

And when those who have been lost are found, when people turn back toward one another and toward God, God rejoices. Because God loves us and cares more about our relationships than about rules and regulations and laws. When all those whom God loves are found, God throws a big huge party— a little like this one we will have today at this table— and rejoices until the end of time. Amen. 

The Cost of Discipleship - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Luke 12:49-56 

⁴⁹“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! ⁵⁰I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! ⁵¹Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! ⁵²From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three;⁵³they will be divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”

⁵⁴He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. ⁵⁵And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. ⁵⁶You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church on August 18, 2019. You can listen to the sermon by visiting the link here. 

Grace and peace to you, from God in Christ who bids us come and follow him and his example so that we might lead holy lives. Amen. 

During my course of studies in seminary, I was required to spend one year in a congregational setting, on internship. Because no one ever accused me of being boring, I applied and was selected to do an international internship in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I had many incredible opportunities while serving in a largely Indian and Chinese congregation there. 

One of my favorite opportunities was teaching Bible study at their sister congregation, that was made up entirely of Nepalese migrant workers. None of them spoke English, so the entire Bible study was translated back and forth between me, the translator, and these men. 

They had migrated recently to Malaysia and worked brutal hours in the factories there. They often lived in tiny apartments with many people to one room, but this group of men was happy and smiling when they came to Bible study every Wednesday night. 

Throughout the Bible studies, it came out that these men were not just seeking a better life here in Malaysia, in fact many of them had been teachers and doctors in Nepal. They were forced to leave. 

They were Christians and not even 1.5% of the Nepalese population is Christian. They told me stories of people coming into their villages, threatening them and their families. They were given a choice: denounce Christianity, leave the country, or die in the fires they would set in their villages. They had 24 hours to decide. 

They told me that some of their friends and even family members decided to stay and denounce Christianity, leaving their belief behind so that they could live in their country and community. Some of their wives even couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the country, so they stayed with their children and denounced Christianity. 

These few men sitting in the Bible study each week were there because they had nothing else. They were there because the gospel had changed their lives and transformed who they were and they were not willing to put that aside for the sake of their community or even their families. 

Eventually I asked, “how did the people know you were Christians?” 

They looked at my dumbfounded and said, “well of course because of the way we lived.” 

Precisely what Jesus says in this troubling and difficult text is what happened to these men. Division, conflict, between family and communities. It cost them everything to be Christians, sometimes including their wives and children. 

In Jesus’ time, it cost a lot to be his follower. Following Jesus often meant being in conflict with your family, your employer, the people who you have known your entire life in your community and faith. 

Jesus wasn’t the warrior king that they had expected, that they had read about in the prophecies. Jesus was humble, kind, loving, and forgiving. He regularly made a table with sinners and those that people had deemed unclean. 

If you were a follower in Jesus’ time, it meant that you not only had to change your beliefs about what the messiah is supposed to look like and other core Jewish beliefs, but you also had to change how you lived. 

Following Jesus meant literally following him, often going around the country with him, giving up your own resources to provide for his other followers, dining with the people Jesus dined with, which was often uncomfortable for the disciples. 

It meant that those who followed Jesus had to preach forgiveness and love, treating others as Jesus treated them, healing, and inviting people into their homes. 

Eventually, the cost of being a disciple for most of Jesus’ followers was their own lives. 

Following Jesus in Nepal looked a lot like following Jesus when he was here on earth. I wonder what following Jesus looks like for us, here in this community. 

Do we live in such a way that our discipleship costs us anything? Does believing in Christ Jesus, living in the reality of his death, resurrection, and ascension change the way we see the world? Does it change the way the world sees us? 

Does coming to this table every week to feed on the body and blood of Christ Jesus change us? Did our baptisms turn our lives upside down and inside out? 

How can we use our time together on Sunday in worship, Sunday school, in our book groups, and in fellowship to encourage one another to not just believe in Jesus, but to truly act like Jesus.

How do we even do that? If we want to imitate someone, be more like them, then we must spent lots of time with them and with other people who are like them. In order to be more like Jesus, we must spend a lot of time getting to know Jesus. We must spend a lot of time learning about who he is and what he did while he walked this earth with the disciples. 

We have to know the kind of person that he was and the kind of people he made company with. And as we begin to understand all of that, we can begin walking that path as well, following in Jesus’ footsteps and being like him. That is, after all, our call as Christians. 

Perhaps our following Jesus will cause division within our families or even our community. Jesus says that he will cause division.

But perhaps instead of being fearful of the fire that Jesus speaks about, we can lean into it a bit with our own lives. We can encourage a fire within us, a fire that kindles the passions of God, encourages the love of Christ and the Holy Spirit. 

But we can also lean into the fire that helps refine us, that helps us be a bit more like Christ, the fire that turns and molds our beliefs into actions. Then perhaps we can have the faith that our second reading describes, that faith of the great cloud of witnesses before us, so that we may lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and follow daily in the blessed steps of Christ’s most holy life. 

Amen.