Sermon from Christmas Eve 2020 Late Service

Sermon from Christmas Eve 2020 Early Service

It started with a weird feeling in my stomach. I miss the smell of wooden pews. I miss the sound of turning hymnal pages. I miss feeling the church feeling.

I didn't care about Mary for many years. She was the epitome of an inflated ideal of a mother. The always-smiling-never-in-a-bad-mood-never-complaining-mom. What could she possibly mean to me?

During our last vacation, we hiked a lot. Ask the kids. They got tired of it after about 10 days and refused to get out of the car just to see another big tree. They had walked enough.

We know the iconography of medieval paintings, angels wearing robes, with wings, halos – and all of this is based on – God knows what.

As he did every morning, he celebrated devotion with the children. But one morning, in December of 1839, it was different. He took a large wooden wagon wheel and placed it in the middle.

from Table Talk Newsletter

“Where is your brother?”, I asked, not trying to think of all the bad in the world. “He is still talking to that lady a few houses to the left, the one that gave us candy the other day.” Hansel and Gretel have had a great influence on my thinking, I have to admit.

“I must have misheard”, Hazel thought to herself. “God clearly doesn’t want me to become a pastor.”

After the last couple of days, I feel like I have an idea of what it is like to wait. Mostly impatiently. After the last 8 months, I feel like I have an idea of what it is like to wait. In the beginning extremely impatiently.

from Table Talk Newsletter

Selfies would be a nightmare for Luther. Or Zoom meetings where you keep looking at yourself and how you look when looking at the camera.

I have never enjoyed grocery shopping much. But there were definitely times when I liked it more than these days. Like when the kids were really little and going grocery shopping was my only legitimate “me-time”. Those were the days.

We are so wired to decode every parable in the same way. King or authority equals God. Son equals Jesus. Banquets are basically figures of speech for communion. The disciples are the good people, the Pharisees the bad. End of story.

I walked out to the garage to see it with my own eyes. Sometimes, that’s the only way to believe something, even though I am a pastor and believing things I often can’t see should be my specialty.

There is a limit to everything. Too much is too much.

from Table Talk Newsletter

Clothes weren’t considered a personal choice for kids. They were a necessity, mostly hand-me-downs or sewed at home by my mom. Unfortunately, as a kid, I really didn’t appreciate handmade clothes. Like, really not.

Back in elementary school, I remember learning about the cycle of water for the first time. It’s the cycle that enables all life on earth. A cycle of blessings.