Zion Lutheran Church Sermon – February 18, 2017

Sarah Goettsch

February 18, 2017


Shortly after I was first ordained as a pastor and was settling into my call serving two small congregations in Calamus, Iowa, I found myself driving up to a tiny town called Charlotte with Roy and Ann Ihns, who had been married for over 7o years. We were driving to Charlotte, because there is a meat locker there which sold lard. Ann insisted I needed to buy lard there in order to make pie crusts; otherwise, I couldn’t consider myself a self-respecting baker. And so I loaded Roy and Ann up in my car, both in their late 90’s, and we set off on our hour-long journey to purchase lard.

We made it to Charlotte, I bought the obligatory tub of lard, loaded Roy and Ann back up into my car and set off on the journey home. Ann insisted we take the back roads home, and because it was a beautiful fall day, I agreed.  You should know this was before GPS and you should also know I have zero sense of direction. It was some time before I noticed how quiet things had grown in the back seat, so imagine my alarm when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw both of them slumped into each other, eyes closed. As I pulled onto the shoulder, I panicked, fearing the worst, that they had somehow simultaneously expired right there in the back seat of my car…

After some significant shaking and shouting, it became clear they had both simply fallen asleep, which was wonderful and such a relief. However, when Ann finally rubbed her eyes, she looked out the car window and exclaimed, “Well, where in the HELL are we?” I didn’t know, because I’d been driving for a while as she slept and apparently should have turned but didn’t because my backseat navigators were, well, asleep.

The ensuing conversation went as follows:

Ann, “We’re LOST and you can’t help, because you’re blind as a bat!”

Roy, “Calm down, we’ll be fine!”

Ann, “We aren’t fine. We’re in a terrible mess now!”

Roy, chuckling to himself, “I might be blind, but it’s still a beautiful day for a drive. We might be in a mess, but we’re in a beautiful mess.”

And Ann punched Roy affectionately in the shoulder, as only a wife of 70 plus years can do. And we eventually found our way home, and I learned to bake pie crusts with lard.


I’ve remembered that phrase for about 16 years–beautiful mess–and I shared that same story in both of their funeral sermons, when I had the privilege of ushering them into the kingdom of heaven. It’s a good phrase to hold onto, for sure…a beautiful mess.  


The phrase “beautiful mess” accurately describes human relationships, if we are honest…family life, work culture, the classroom, relationships, faith…it’s safe to say that every human relationship has some proportion of messiness. Don’t be fooled by relationships that look perfect on the surface, because underneath the surface you’ll find a mess. Whether the relationship exists between parents and kids, friends, lovers, spouses, whatever, human relationships are beautiful, but messy.


Lutheran Campus Ministry is no exception. We have our share of mess, we have our misunderstandings and drama. There is hurt and pain LCM just like there is in any home or any ministry or anytime people are in relationship. But it’s still a beautiful ministry, with truly beautiful people. Even in the mess that our world finds itself in, LCM is working hard to establish itself as a place where Love Lives. Here are the top ten things LCM is doing right now; in all of them, you will identify beauty and mess:


  1. Two weeks ago, we participated in the rally on the ped mall to demonstrate solidarity with immigrants, minorities and Muslims. Public outcry in the face of injustice is beauty in the midst of mess.
  2. Last week, 24 students from the U of I attended a retreat at Wartburg Seminary, several of whom are preparing for a life of ordained ministry in the ELCA. The question of vocation is messy, yet beautiful.
  3. Last Sunday, we hosted a community forum to give voice to those who marched in January and to connect participants with contact persons in the community who can lead them to legislative action. We had over 150 people in attendance. Public discourse and moral deliberation are beautifully messy things.
  4. Last week, we hosted the Midwest Coordinator for the Lutheran Volunteer Corps, an organization that is no stranger to messes in this world.
  5. In October, we hosted representatives from every seminary in the United States so that our students can continue their discernment as leaders in this church. Discernment is beautifully  messy stuff.
  6. We are planning a progressive dinner on campus involving the Muslim Student Center, the Mormon Campus Ministry, the Hillel House Jewish Campus Ministry and the Newman Center Catholic Campus Ministry. Interfaith dialogue is messy sometimes, but it is beautiful.
  7. We are planning a junior and senior high lock in in March for churches in Iowa City and North Liberty, staffed by LCM students.  Lock-ins are just plain messy.
  8. We are traveling in April to visit the Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago and the University of Chicago Lutheran Campus Ministry serving the south side of Chicago. Outreach and ministry to the poor and marginalized is messy and beautiful.
  9. We are forming a partnership with the Secular Students at Iowa, an organization of atheist and agnostic students who seek fellowship and community with religious campus ministries for the sake of mutual learning. Bridging gaps is messy and beautiful.
  10. We are housing a brand new campus ministry called Love Works, which is choosing not to call itself non-denominational but rather cross-denominational. Taking a risk is messy yet beautiful.


All this! Wonderful, beautiful things, but still messy. But why is there mess in human relationships? Simply put, it is because of failed expectations–whether we are talking about failed expectations between people and people or people and God. In our reading from Matthew today, Jesus tells us plainly what he expects from us. Don’t return violence with violence; turn the other cheek. Don’t just love your friends; love your enemies. Be perfect, says Jesus. This is what Jesus expects from us. But you don’t need me to convince you that there is no way we can possibly meet these expectations. I can’t even walk a dog without getting frustrated; how can I possibly succeed in human relationship? If Jesus expects perfection from me, he’d better prepare to be disappointed. So, then, there’s no way to meet these expectations; it’s impossible to keep God’s law, even if we want to. We know that, even when we want to keep the commandments, we have broken them in our hearts, if not with our hands.

What’s God doing–can God possibly understand how difficult it is to exist in messy human relationships?

Yes, God understands the messiness of human relationship. Our relationships matter to God, we see this over and over in the Bible. God is not some remote God, observing creation from a distant corner of the universe. And God goes even further than just empathizing with human relationship, God enters into human relationship by becoming human. And so God is born, and becomes a son named Jesus, with a human mom named Mary and a human dad named Joseph and sisters and brothers; Jesus has plenty of human friends and plenty of human enemies and plenty of people who simply have no idea what to think about him. God becomes fully human and therefore fully experiences the relational things of the human heart, including passion, love and longing. In Jesus, God experiences human loyalty towards his friends and human grief when he is betrayed and abandoned. In Jesus, God experiences human anger towards hypocritical religious authorities. In Jesus, God experiences human empathy for the sick and human tenderness towards those whom society despised. In Jesus, God gathers the ones whom the culture of his time despised–the prostitute, the tax man, the diseased, the minority, the immigrant–and includes them, eats with them, loves them. In Jesus, God reaches out his hand and touches the diseased, heals the sick, embraces the despairing, feeds the hungry, plays with the children. Finally, in Jesus, God turns his cheek towards the kiss of betrayal and dies for his enemies. In Jesus, God exists fully in human relationship.

There is nothing we can experience in human relationship that God has not experienced. God has absorbed all of human relationship into himself and redeemed those things we cannot help but break. In other words, it is because of who God is that we are able to love others, not because of who we are. Human relationship is only made whole in God and by the grace of God. Because God takes relationship to those places we cannot go. God does not expect too much from us by demanding perfection; rather, God draws us into relationship with Jesus, who embodies perfection. In baptism, we are joined to the one who can love and has loved perfectly.

So rather than give up hope when we hear Jesus’ expectations of human relationship which are up here when we know we’re down here, we give God thanks that he has become a part of this beautiful mess of human relationship, not to judge it, not to condemn it, but to redeem it, to sanctify it, to make it holy. God is not setting us up for failure by asking us to turn the other cheek and love the enemy–God draws us into relationship with himself, who is able to do these things and has in fact done them already. God’s love succeeds when our love fails; God’s love is infinite when ours is inadequate. Jesus is the new definition of human relationship, and in him, victory is won not through violence but by opposing it; in Jesus, God’s kingdom breaks open on this world, revealing to us that our ways of relating to one another through exclusion, prejudice, judging, terror and tyranny are NOT the ways of his kingdom, and that these things need to be confronted, challenged and overthrown so that all people can know the lose of God through us and how we relate to them and the world.

But lest we begin to think this sounds cheesy or hippie or sappy, be assured that turning the other cheek and loving the enemy are not acts of submission; they are acts of power, they are acts of revolution in that they are counter-cultural, even as Jesus was revolutionary, just not in the ways people expected him to be. There is power in this selfless love that Jesus models for us. I participated in the Women’s March on Washington in January and saw a man standing on  a corner holding up a sign that said, “You Deserve Rape” and saw a woman walk up and hug the man…that’s the love Jesus is talking about that there is power in that love, not submission! Her hug was more transformative than a slap, if not for him, then for me…       

The path of revenge is easy; it’s easy to return violence with violence. Loving your friends is easy; it’s easy to love ones who are just like me. But Jesus did not take the easy path; and neither do we, his sons and daughters. And what’s great is we don’t have to worry about failure or not meeting expectations of other people or meeting God’s expectations; God knows what you are capable of and gives you the power and the strength to do your part in sharing his love to the world, as he does, unconditional, unrestrained, unending. Martin Luther was no stranger to the collision of politics and faith and said, “A Christian cannot do everything; but a Christian must do something.” Let your something be about drawing others into relationship with Jesus, who gives power in weakness, hope in despair and courage in injustice. This is the path of powerful evangelism and it has nothing to do with conversion or church membership, it has everything to do with embodying the same selfless power and courage that Jesus embodied. It’s not an easy path, but it’s not impossible. Jesus’ his path took him straight to Jerusalem and Golgotha and the cross. He invites us to follow. But remember his powerful revolution of loving the enemy didn’t die on the cross, it was born on the cross. Birth is messy, but it is also beautiful.

Christians belong in the heart of the messiness of the world. We belong in the messiness of relationships. We can’t fix it, but we can point to One who can…we point to One whose kingdom has already begun to come to this world. We point to One whose kingdom brings those in power to their knees, a kingdom where those who are always last in line are now first, a kingdom where the meek are given places of honor. God’s kingdom recreates the definition of power by beginning with human relationships. Yes it is messy, but it is in the mess of this world where the beauty of the cross shines most brilliantly.

Posted in Sermons

First Lutheran Church Sermon – January 5, 2017

(This sermon was given by Pastor Sarah Goettsch on January 5, 2017, at First Lutheran Church in Cedar Rapids, IA)

There was once a time, while I was serving in Calamus, Iowa, when a toddler was to be baptized on a Sunday morning. Far from an ideal scene of baptismal serenity, this particular toddler wasn’t having it. After beginning the baptismal liturgy, I noticed the mom’s trembling hands and the dad’s sweaty forehead and the desperate expressions on both their faces as they fought to control the tantrum of their child. In a moment of swift decisiveness, I scooped up the child and said, “You know what? Forget the liturgy. I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit–whether you like it or not.” And that was that. Perhaps not the most elegant baptism, but I must say, it is that last part, the “whether you like it or not” that has stuck with me all these years. Because contained in that small phrase lies the heart of Lutheran theology and hope for the relevancy of the church.

I thank you for inviting me here today to come and preach, and I bring you greetings and thanks from Lutheran Campus Ministry at the University of Iowa. We thank you in advance for the loving and strong partnership that is already beginning to form between LCM and First Lutheran Church. I’m invited here to engage the question: Is the church relevant today? It is a bold question; one that requires bold answers.

I love this question of relevancy, because it is a question I ask myself every single day. Ask my husband how often I wake up in the morning and declare, “That’s it! This is the day I leave the church.” I suspect we both know I never will, but there is indeed a disconnect between the church and the world that is, in a word, unacceptable. However, while I have grave doubts about the relevancy of the church, I do not doubt the relevancy of the Gospel. The relevancy of the Gospel is a different question than the relevancy of the church. More on that later.

In my work as Campus Pastor at the Lutheran Campus Ministry at the University of Iowa, I ponder the relevancy of the church every day. I see 30,000 students stream past my office and so many other campus ministries and churches downtown. “Why don’t they come?” the church wonders. I have some insight into this question, but, as I warned you, it is uncomfortable.

Question: Is the Church relevant to these students or the world?

Answer: Rarely.


I have three separate but related points.

Firstly, the church has rendered itself irrelevant by betraying sacred boundaries of intimacy in the church in varying degrees, including clergy abuse, sexual misconduct and financial corruption. What did the church expect? The church has betrayed the sacred trust and vulnerability others have entrusted to us, and we have not yet adequately begged the world for forgiveness. The church has harmed deeply and now we need to repent and repair. This unaddressed harm and the betrayal of sacred boundaries has rendered the church irrelevant.

However, the church reclaims its relevance by proclaiming a message of health and safety and trust. It’s about re-establishing a holy intimacy with one another, the kind that Jesus models in his own ministry as he touched the sick, deaf, blind mute, dying and grieving. The church reclaims its relevance by being vulnerable and letting others in. The students I work with want to know about my life, my family, things that bring me joy and sorrow. They want to know about my work and my call to be a pastor and it isn’t helpful if they see me exhausted or bitter or resentful of my work or the church. They don’t want to see me sitting at a desk for 15 hours a day. They want to know that I have a life outside of my work, and they love running into me or my family at the pool or park or basketball game or restaurant. They love to see me kiss my husband and hug my kids. And they want to be hugged and they want to show affection towards one another and know that that’s ok, that there really is a thing called a safe touch, and that it is a sacred thing…because the safe touch is what embraces a sobbing student or holds the hand in the hospital bed or calms the panicked brow. They want to have a beer with me and tell me about their life. They want to be able to swear and cry and fall down and know they will not be judged by me or you or God. They want to know that piety, which is often expressed as judgment, is not the same thing as faith, which can only be expressed as love. It’s about giving students and indeed the world opportunity to reinvest themselves in a church that has made a terrible mess of boundaries. The church reclaims its relevance by being healthy again.

Secondly, the church renders itself irrelevant the minute it stops proclaiming the things it claims. What good does it do the world if the church claims acceptance for gays and lesbians but fails to marry them or welcome them into their pews and pulpits? What good does the church do the world if it claims solidarity with the marginalized but shuts its doors on the hungry? What good does the church do when it claims advocacy for minorities but fails to shape and affect legislation that protects these vulnerable populations? What good does it do to claim a radical Christ-like love for all people but proclaim a love that applies only to those who tithe 10% or show up on Sundays? What good does it do the world if the church claims to need leaders but then fails to support for the very ministries that reach out to young people, like campus ministries?The church becomes irrelevant the minute it becomes cowardly in proclaiming the radical message that Jesus proclaims–love for all people, mercy for the unlovable, forgiveness for the unforgivable. Society sees a disconnect between what the church claims on paper and what it proclaims publicly. This disconnect is experienced as irrelevance.

However, the church reclaims its relevance by embracing the same boldness forged by our namesake Martin Luther, who was the furthest thing from a coward, who preached and reformed in the face of a far greater threat than the one we see occupying the White House. If Luther can shake his fist in the face of Emperor Charles V and Pope Leo and say, “No more!” to the abuses and cowardice of the medieval church, then we can too. Jesus tells us to not be afraid, as one who knows fear firsthand, having preached against the established institution, as one who offended the authorities and befriended those whom society deemed disposable. The church certainly is relevant in times like ours; but we must re-discover our voice and even shout if necessary to proclaim a different Christianity than the one that defines us in the media today; ours is not a Christianity that condemns others, and this deserves bold proclamation. The Gospel of Jesus is life-changing and is deserving of courage, not cowardice; it is a message not of building walls, but breaking them down. It is a message not of exclusion, but inclusion. It is a message not of judgment, but compassion. It is a message for all people, not some. The church reclaims its relevance by boldly proclaiming the love of Jesus Christ!

Thirdly, the church has rendered itself irrelevant by confusing our role as creature with that of the Creator. While it’s true the church is the closest thing we have on earth that reflects the kingdom of God, the church is a human institution, and that means we can only expect human things from it. It is a broken structure created by broken people. The church will disappoint. The church will fail. The church is not God. In our role confusion, we have taken it upon ourselves to be God, to judge who’s allowed in and who belongs out. This is not our place. We are called to proclaim grace and the good news of Jesus Christ to all people. When the church starts playing God and we fail to remember our place, we become self-serving instead of God-serving. “How can we get people through our door?” is the last question we should be asking. “How can we lead people to God?” is the question. The church is not called to cultivate faith in church but faith in God. During my toughest year in the parish, I remember crying on my husband’s shoulder and saying, “I have lost all my faith in people.” He replied, “Shouldn’t your faith be in God, instead?”The church must re-establish our identity as God’s church, without playing the role of God. Jesus is Alpha and Omega–not the church. Faith in God, not in the church.When we confuse who we are with whose we are, we render ourselves irrelevant.

However, the church reclaims its relevance by being authentic church and letting God be God. The church must stop acting desperate by doing a million things in order to entice a few people through the door, meanwhile exhausting its parishioners with an overwhelming and largely irrelevant church calendar. One student describes desperate church as being similar to a scary guy offering kids lollipops from a white utility van. We don’t need to lure people in with bells and whistles and sparkly things, because we already have a gift to share that is beautiful on its own, a gift  found nowhere else. We have the gift of Jesus Christ to share with all people; it needs no more than to be given away. God creates us in beautiful relationship with himself, so that we can work together to share this gift with the world. The church is about doing church things, and God is about doing God things. We proclaim, God converts. We forgive, God heals. We advocate, God transforms. We gather, God baptizes. We feed, God sanctifies. We include, God blesses. The church reclaims its relevance through an ever-present awareness that we are church and that God is God.

What these three points reveal is that the church did not suddenly and passively become irrelevant; rather, the church has rendered itself irrelevant by what we have done and what we have failed to do. This presents itself as an all-time low in regards to church membership across all denominations. The fact that the church has rendered itself irrelevant is self-evident. But before you tell yourself that this is the most dismal sermon you’ve ever heard, let me clearly assure you of this: if the church as rendered itself irrelevant by things done and undone, the church can change its ways in order to re-establish relevancy in today’s world, and the church can do this, because the church is resilient and has seen tougher times than these it our 2000 year history. I mean, none of you are going to be boiled in oil or thrown to the lions today, right? See? I prove my point. Let our light shine before all people, even in tough times when we struggle.

The great news in all of this is that while the church might fight the recurring battle of relevancy, God is never irrelevant, nor is the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is relevant today, precisely because so many people still don’t–or can’t–believe it. Most people cannot grasp that firstly, there is a God, and secondly, that this God gives a flying fig about them. The church’s relevance ebbs and flows over time, but God is eternally relevant, meaning that God eternally relates to us, proven in the incarnation, when God became one of us.

At Lutheran Campus Ministry, it often seems as though we have very little in common–from the honors student to the struggling one, from the athlete to the anorexic, from the Lutheran to the atheist, from the optimist to the suicidal, we confess it is our identity as baptized children of God that holds us together; and I recall that screaming toddler, that we are in this together, whether we like it or not, whether we like one another or not, and that we are loved by God, like it or not. God’s message of unconditional love applies to these students and to each one of you, a message that says,  “I love you no matter what you are or who you are. I claim you no matter what you’ve done or not done.  I will never leave you–in life or in death–no matter what.” Like it or not, believe it or not, buy it or not, there is a God who sent his Son into this world in order to become one of us and sweat and cry and bleed just like us. God has entered our human story, your story and mine. God has become human just like us. You can’t be more relevant than that.

So what’s the risk in proclaiming the Gospel which we claim? We might offend, we might disappoint, we might fail to meet others’ expectations of what church should be or what pastors should be…often the students’ biggest fear is disappointing others, a fear that is certainly not unique to them. Will the church disappoint? Maybe, so what? That shouldn’t deter us, because we come from a long line of disappointments. The prophet Isaiah disappointed his beloved Israel. St. Paul disappointed his Pharisee colleagues when he quit being a persecutor of Christians and became one. Jesus disappointed the those who’d hoped he’d hoped he’d lead the Jewish people in a rebellion against the Romans. Martin Luther disappointed his father by not becoming a lawyer. Bishops and colleagues have disappointed me and I them. But there has been tremendous triumph despite these disappointments. Whose expectations are we hoping to meet? One another’s? The world’s? So what? We are not works-righteousness people. We are grace people. You already meet God’s expectations, simply by being you. You do not disappoint God, so you have nothing to lose in sharing God’s love with others. Let your light so shine before others, not to gain approval from the world or from God, but to give glory to God in heaven. The light shines in the darkness, whether the darkness likes it or not.

Absolutely, the church can reclaim its relevance, but it’s got some work to do. Relevant faith must be more than lip service, more than playing biblical ping pong in order to win some silly argument; relevant faith is a life of living sacrifice–that I exist because of and for you. The church can no longer afford to be obsessed with membership or denomination or maintaining our current administration, these are largely silly things, because people are starving for a word of hope, and we need to feed them with the Bread of Life and the Word of God. Relevant Christianity is not intimidated by the Christians out there who judge and intimidate. Rather than simply quoting Scripture, relevant Christianity considers these questions: have we listened to Scripture? Have we absorbed it, digested it, do we embody it?…I guarantee you, Jesus is not impressed by how many Bible verses you can quote. In other words, are we authentically letting our light shine, a light from within that comes from God? Do we proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ with all our flesh and blood–with the words we say, by whom we embrace, by whom we include, by fighting and speaking out against injustice, and there is plenty right now to choose from. When the church stops playing it safe, it grows…there’s even a phrase for this: growing edge. Edgy church is relevant church. If we’re messy and bruised, then we know we’re being relevant. Relevant church is worked out on a mat on the floor. Let’s put some sweat equity into this church.

What are ways LCM is seeking to be relevant in our corner of the world?

  1. We are planning a retreat to Wartburg Seminary next week, with 17 students attending, several of whom are planning to become ordained pastors in the ELCA.
  2. We are participating in a rally Sunday afternoon on the ped mall in Iowa City to demonstrate solidarity against the recent ban against immigrants, minorities and Muslims.
  3. We are hosting a community forum next week to give voice to those who marched 2 weeks ago and to connect participants with contact persons in the community who can lead them to legislative action.
  4. Next week, we are hosting the Midwest Coordinator for the Lutheran Volunteer Corps.
  5. This fall, hosted representatives from every seminary in the United States so that our students can continue their discernment as leaders in this church..
  6. We are planning a progressive dinner on campus involving the Muslim Student Center, the Mormon Campus Ministry, the Hillel House Jewish Campus Ministry and the Newman Center Catholic Campus Ministry.
  7. We are hosting a junior and senior high lock in in March for churches in Iowa City and North Liberty, staffed by LCM students.
  8. We are traveling in April to visit the Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago and the University of Chicago Lutheran Campus Ministry serving the south side of Chicago
  9. We are forming a partnership with the Secular Students at Iowa, an organization of atheist and agnostic students who seek fellowship and community with religious campus ministries for the sake of mutual learning.
  10. We are housing a brand new campus ministry called Love Works, which is choosing not to call itself non-denominational but rather cross-denominational.

This. And so much more. And we are but a motley band of about 25, up from about 3 almost 3 years ago.

I am honored to be Campus Pastor at Lutheran Campus Ministry at the University of Iowa, to witness this relevant and often raw expression of the church. I see God moving in these students and on this campus and in our world. History is happening. People are on the move. May the church catch up, and from the middle of the crowds, with flesh pressing in from all sides, may God give us courage to proclaim a bold and defiant message of love that points not to ourselves, but to God, who has promised to love this throng of noisy and sweaty people no matter what with a love which always has been and always will be relevant.

Posted in Sermons

Gloria Dei Lutheran Church Sermon – June 19, 2016

(This sermon was given by Pastor Sarah Goettsch on June 19, 2016, only one week after the 2016 Orlando nightclub shooting)


I sometimes wonder if the United States of America is a failed experiment. I can say that, because I have lived in two countries besides this one and often draw some stark comparisons and conclusions. I also say that as a patriot, because I love this country. But at the same time, I often find myself wondering how this grand experiment can possibly work out.

Let me also say at this point that I have also often wondered if some of my own casserole recipes have proven to be failed experiments. Ingredients that often go well together in my mind sometimes are a different experience on the palate. Sometimes things blend in a perfect synchronicity of flavors, like my chicken and rice casserole. Other times, it is catastrophe, like my ham lasagna.

Similarly, we look at our own beloved country in the wake of yet another mass shooting, yet another attack carried out in the name of sheer hatred, and we have to ask the question—how is this experiment supposed to work? Once upon a time, our forefathers did an astonishing job of accumulating people from every nation, whether rich or poor, tired or hungry, the homeless and the huddles masses from around the world onto these very shores. This is quite a random collection of ingredients, to be sure. But how has this casserole turned out? Has it worked, as our forefathers so eagerly anticipated? Can it work, as we their descendants so desperately hope?

Can this casserole of people, from every nation on this planet, blend its collective flavors into something extraordinary, or will it fail? Is the only thing our nation has in common is hatred or is there something more?  And what does this have to do with Jesus and church and faith? Well, it has EVERYTHING to do with Jesus and church and faith. Because it is a question that goes far beyond one of civil tolerance or even acceptance; it has to do with something far more radical—love, as modeled by Jesus, who, even though he was the son of God, often found himself caught in the political crossfire between the Jewish leaders and the Roman government.

This most recent shooting in Orlando is tragically ironic for many Christians, because, in this case, many Christians love to hate both the victims and the perpetrator. Many Christians love to hate Muslims or those who affiliate with the Muslim faith, yet they also love to hate gays. So whom do you root for, when your faith insists that you hate both the murderer and the murdered? Hmm. These Christians find themselves in a pickle. I am tired of these Christians, who claim to speak for all of us. Luckily, ELCA Lutherans do not find themselves in a pickle, and it is high time (indeed, it is past beyond high time) that we stop being sheepish about faith and remember the boldness that birthed our faith tradition.  ELCA Lutherans claim the most amazing faith tradition, and we must proclaim it. And I am being specific about ELCA Lutherans here, because we’ve worked hard on our social statements—we engage the tough issues with integrity and compassion. We follow the teachings of a revolutionary monk who married a runaway nun…let us not get so comfortable that we fail to speak out when the time comes, like when the next mass shooting comes, and it will.

But in regards to last Sunday’ tragedy, what does Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Man, have to say about this most recent shooting? What does Jesus have to say about homosexuality? Nothing. What does Jesus say about Muslims? Nothing. Jesus has plenty to say about so many other issues—judging others, hypocrisy, social injustice, the reign of God. All we know is that, for those who are in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female—for all are one in Jesus Christ. Think about this—what an earthshattering thing this is…what this means is that God’s chosen people are beloved by God just as much as the pagan ones who will not even speak his name, believers and unbelievers alike…what this means is the scum of society is loved as much as the majestic…what this means is gender isn’t an issue for Jesus and neither are any of the sexual hang-ups that go along with gender.  All are one in Christ—no one better than the other. All equally beloved.

This means we are free from worrying about whom to love and whom not to love. If these things don’t matter to Jesus, then they don’t matter to us. Loving others is not a choice for us—it is a mandate. I remember attending my graduation from Wartburg Theological Seminary in Dubuque in 2001…outside the church, the Fred Phelps contingent had shown up with picket signs that said, “God Hates Fags.” And our key note speaker Rev. David Miller walked down the center aisle and opened the doors and yelled at the top of his lungs, “God hates nothing he has created!” And if God hates nothing he has created, then neither can we.

The war that is referred to so often after a mass shooting or a terrorist attack is not one that is waged outside of ourselves—whether it be against Muslims or gays or China or Democrats or Republicans or whomever. The real war that rages on in this world begins not as an external one, but rather as an internal one. It is the war fought inside of each one of our own heads. It is the voice that whispers things that alienate us from each other…voices that say you are either better than your neighbor or worse. In ancient times, they called these voices demons. These voices, which we all battle, are manifestations of brokenness within the human soul…these are proof that we are shattered people, that we lack balance, that we either see ourselves as far superior to our neighbor or else we see ourselves as worthless. We fail to see our neighbors as equals, different but the same, one in Christ, different ingredients in a casserole that go great together. When this imbalance plays itself out, some people in society are demonized, driven to live among the tombs, like the one whom Jesus encounters in the land of Gerasenes.

There was a time in our country’s history when we drove the Native American out to live among the tombs. Then we drove the African Americans out to live among the tombs. Then women. Then homosexuals. Then Muslims. Can’t we see? These ones whom we drive away are the ones Jesus seeks out. Always. And if you live long enough, your turn will come to be demonized and driven to live among the dead, if you offend the wrong people. Jesus will seek you out. And your brothers and sisters in Christ are called to follow.

It is a curious thing that we call ourselves a Christian nation, and I sometimes wonder if that is what feeds this mess we’re in. Because what does that imply to the Muslim or Jew or Buddhist or atheist if we call ourselves a Christian nation? And, even more dangerously, what does this say about Christianity? Is it Christianity the way Jesus taught, who loved tax collectors, ate with sinners, forgave adulterers, set the possessed free from the demons that tormented them, healed the sick and raised the dead back to life? NO, it is a Christianity that people have concocted in the name of Christ, where we are free to carry signs with terrible words and shout terrible chants, all in the name of Jesus Christ, who carried no such signs and said no such things, but rather loved everyone and died to prove it.

This is not a political sermon per se, although there is a certain political component to it, if by political we mean a set of concepts that have the potential to change people. Christianity has its place in our country, and a precious place, as long as it is the Christianity modeled by Jesus Christ, not created by people.

I understand that Christians often hesitate about the public dimension of faith, and we often hide behind the idea of separation of church and state. However, we come from a long line of public Christians. Refresh your history regarding Martin Luther and how he directly challenged the pope and upset the entire political scene in Europe. Read about Abraham Lincoln’s Christology in his second inaugural address. Listen to the speeches of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King.  They were bold Christians living in turbulent times. We can be too. Indeed, we must be. We can be bold in the dealings of daily life. One of our students at LCM quit his fraternity this week because his brothers were making derogatory public statements about Muslims and gays in response to last Sunday’s shooting. Daily professions of faith can also be bold. Little bold things aren’t so little when they’re done in the name of the demonized ones living among the tombs.

In our work and in our play, we must remember we are baptized into the name of the one who died a redeeming death for all people, not just some. It is an honor not a burden for us to do the work that Christ did—by loving the ones who either think they are so revolting or others convince them they are so revolting that they hide amongst the tombs. Doing the public work of Christ means loving not just the friend but the enemy, by praying for this country and its leaders and its citizens, so that we might remember the humility upon which we were founded. This experiment doesn’t have to fail; our country can be a delicious casserole of ingredients if we blend together our civil freedoms with Luther’s small catechism…that freedom of speech means we have the right to speak well of and defend our neighbor, that our freedom to be people of faith in this country means there are times when we need to step up and demonstrate to others that this God in whom we believe is not the God of the signs in front of abortion clinics or the God in whose name gay clubs are attacked.

God’s ways are not the ways of the world. And we are first a part of God’s ways and then the world. Faith first, the patriotism. Faith informs citizenship. God’s ways are profound and revolutionary:

God invites even when we show no interest in being invited.

God seeks us even when we do not seek God.

God’s love contradicts our hostility.


The word of God brings sanity to a world gone insane. Jesus seeks out whomever society has demonized and shunned to live among the dead. And he asks, no he requires, us as Christians and citizens in whatever country we live in to do likewise.

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LCM Outing

LCM at UI is a great place to make friends, get involved, and grow! LCM is a place where tough questions about faith and God can be asked. We are an inviting, warm and welcoming group. All students are welcome to participate in any of our retreats, events or worship services, regardless of faith background.


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LCM Trip

LCM Get-together

LCM members often participate in various events along with other University of Iowa campus ministries and ministries from other campuses as well. Last year, several of us went on a trip (fill in the rest of the details).

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LCM Movie Nights

At LCM, we frequently hold movie nights where we watch an inspiring or thought-provoking movie. We typically follow the movie with a brief discussion and share our thoughts and impressions about it.

Check our calendar of events or our Facebook page for the next time we host a movie night, and come join us!

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Upcoming Events
  • LCM retreat September 28, 2018 at 1:00 pm – September 30, 2018 at 2:00 pm