Author: Aaron

Festival of the Reformation — Jeremiah 31:31–34. This was also my final Sunday with Faith and Bethany Lutheran Churches in Reading, PA.

Our Lutheran Church’s official representative for South America, Gustavo Driau, suggested I pick up a copy of a book called “Open Veins of Latin America.” The veins that the title refers to are the veins of useful and precious metals running through the southern part of this hemisphere, the mines and other industries of the Spanish- and Portuguese-speaking colonial Americas.

But it’s also a title with a double meaning. When the Europeans arrived in this new world on the eve of the Protestant Reformation, when the Eastern hemisphere was discovering again the radical grace of God that sets us free from the powers of sin and death, they enslaved the people they found already living here in the Western hemisphere, and through their own grave sin, tore open the blood vessels of these beautiful people made by God, condemning them to death.

Lectionary 28 (B) — Amos 5:6–15; Mark 10:17–31

Seek the Lord and live.

At first, I was annoyed at my schedule. If I’m here for all of October, couldn’t I have kept working? If Global Mission had just made up their minds sooner, we could have gone an extra month. But now I’ve started preparing for the move. It’s more difficult than I’d thought. Exactly twenty-one days from now, I have to hop in the car and leave, for good. I’m not sure I’ll be ready.

Lectionary 26 (B) — Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Mark 9:38–50

Before I begin, there are two details I need to address, that don’t fit in my sermon. The first is about cutting off your hand or plucking out your eye. Sometimes we try to soften Jesus’ hard sayings, and usually that’s a mistake. But this time, he is using exaggeration to make his point. There are rare illnesses that cause people to physically harm themselves. I’m certain Jesus would send them to medical professionals for help, and not want people to actually mutilate their bodies. It just needs to be said out loud.

Second, I changed words reading the Gospel. You know the Bible was written in Hebrew and Greek, and then translated to English. Our English Bible says, “thrown into hell,” but I said, “in the trash.” Actually, the word “hell” isn’t in the Bible anywhere. That doesn’t mean there is no hell; it just means the Bible’s words are different. Jesus actually says, “Gehinnom.” This is the name of the valley just south of Jerusalem where the city’s trash was taken and dumped. Like the mines under Centralia, Pennsylvania, at some point in history the trash caught fire, and couldn’t be put out; it had to run its course. We eventually came to think of an eternal, hellish punishment, but I personally think the idea of just being thrown away really drives the point home. Thanks, Jesus.

Lectionary 25 (B) — Mark 9:30–37

I think one of the reasons I get along so well with children is that I’m still one of them. That seems like a bad thing; an adult, “entering” middle age, who hasn’t “grown up” yet. But that’s not what I mean. I pay my bills and have a career. But in the ways it counts, I wonder if we’d all be better off if we were more like children.

Lectionary 24 (B) — James 3:1–12, Mark 8:27–38

Our biggest problem is often a failure to communicate. For example, last week, I preached on James, and said that Martin Luther, who gave birth to Lutheranism 500 years ago, was wrong to reject the book. A few days later, I got an email suggesting that I was too quick to declare Luther “wrong.” This is one of the things I love most about being pastor HERE: I have often, from a variety of people, been challenged on my theology and my reading of scripture. Some congregations are afraid to ask questions; other antagonize their pastor. Here, questions are asked with the desire to learn, to explore together, to deepen faith seeking understanding. Any worthy pastor loves the opportunity to dialogue, and I am no exception.