Author: Aaron

Sermon on Luke 3:1–6 and Baruch 5:1–9. Proclaimed at Zion Spies Lutheran Church, Oley, PA.

One night in April, I decided I was having a heart attack. The key word here is “decided.” I was perfectly fine. But, you know, there are plenty of people who think that Elvis is still alive, or that the world governments are actually controlled by three people sitting in an underground room in Lisbon, or that aliens will control their mind but for the tin foil they wear under their hat, so in the scheme of things, I don’t think my own momentary insanity is all that bad.

Sermon on Luke 21:25–36 and Jeremiah 33:14–16. Proclaimed at Zion Spies Lutheran Church, Oley, PA.

When I was in high school, I was pretty scatter-brained. My friend Tamineh called me the “absent-minded professor.” Well, honestly, she still calls me that. She likes to tell about a chemistry experiment that turned the wrong color because I put the chemicals in in the wrong order. Always forgetful, that was me. But my biggest problem in high school was homework.

Sermon on Daniel 7:9–14, Revelation 1:4b–8, and John 18:33–37. Preached at Becker’s St. Peter’s Lutheran, Fleetwood, PA.

The people of St. Bartholomew Lutheran Church knew exactly what they wanted in a pastor. Good preaching, engaging worship, children’s ministry, and tending the old Swedish traditions of the congregation. What they got was Pastor Jane. She looked right at first. But preaching wasn’t really her strong suit. Children liked her, certainly, but she didn’t really know what she was doing there either. Her idea of engaging worship was a little out of the ordinary. And those old traditions? Well, Jane noticed that the church’s neighbors didn’t know those old Swedish traditions. They brought other traditions from Mexico, and if we wanted to attract them to church, we’d better think about replacing the Santa Lucia pageant with Las Posadas.

Sermon on Mark 13:1–8. Preached at Zion’s Lutheran, Shoemakersville, PA.

The end of the world. With all the work I did with teenagers in my ministry up north, I learned that there were a few things that would always come up when we’d just get talking. This was one, and no surprise. We’ve been fascinated with the idea forever. I am no exception; I can remember as a teenager reading the book of Revelation over and over again. I had heard about one way to “decode” the visions in that book, and was confused. It didn’t quite make sense, and it certainly didn’t match with the rest of the faith I had been taught. But I couldn’t imagine an alternative.

Sermon on Mark 12: 38–44 and 1 Kings 17:8–16. Proclaimed at Trinity Lutheran in West Hazelton, PA and St. Luke Lutheran in Freedland, PA.

The widow’s two pennies, as taught by my Sunday school teachers, involved the kind of financial accounting appropriate to second-grade minds. The rich put in large sums of money, but had more where that came from. Maybe a 5% offering. And the widow put in much less, but it was all she had, so that makes 100%. 100 is bigger than 5, so of course God loves her more. Just do the math.

This story isn’t about math.

On Revelation 21:1–7a. At Immanuel Lutheran Church, Holden, MA.

The cafeteria at a prestigious research-oriented graduate school like Princeton Seminary is no different from somewhere like, say, “Public District Elementary School Number 7.” The popular kids still sit on one side while the misfits sit on the other. When I first arrived in Princeton, I was faced with the same problem I always have. Where do I sit? Who do I fit in with? This is a very important question, which requires careful thought. And standing there, just past the cash register, looking out at the room, I had to decide quickly, before my lunch got cold.

On Jeremiah 31:7–9. At Advent Lutheran Church, Tuscarora, PA.

The prophet Jeremiah was the most outspoke critic of the way of life in ancient Israel. A prophet’s job is to see the world the way that God sees it. And so while it was clear to Jeremiah what the potential of God’s people truly was—what wonderful, holy joy they could bring to the world—it was also clear how far short reality fell. Instead of living in God’s love, people were exclusionary, selfish, gripped by fear and hatred, behaving in ways that harmed and oppressed others in order to protect themselves. In everything he said and did, Jeremiah warned that any nation lacking in compassion and justice and mercy would soon find itself in desperate need of compassion and justice and mercy, and there would be none to be found. But the people of ancient Judah didn’t listen, so when the Babylonian army arrived at Jerusalem’s door, they found a weak capitol city with an ineffective king, and soon Jerusalem was destroyed.

On Mark 10:32–45. At Trinity Lutheran Church, Coopersburg, PA.

Louisa—Lu for short—was the picture of your average eight-year old. She was enrolled all summer in a camp program in Nebraska for children with emotional or behavioral challenges, but Lu didn’t seem to have any of those. She was friendly, compliant, happy—and didn’t quite need the same attention as some of the others.