Sermons By Alan Bentrup

These words rang true for Timothy. These words rang true for the Queen. And I pray these words ring true for you and for me… “But as for you, children of God, shun all worldly things… Shun power and riches and fame and control and division and hatred and ego… And pursue good things… pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, gentleness, endurance…. Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called…” (6.11-12)

I say that every week. Everyone is welcome at God’s table. Everyone. Even me, and even you. Because Jesus found us all. Therefore let us keep the feast.

Jesus calls us to get rid of anything and everything that comes between us and God and each other. That is why the picture Jesus draws in today’s Gospel is so vivid. Following Jesus is hard. Following Jesus is costly. Because Jesus calls us to be all in… Are you ready to cross that line?

We can no longer just see the people who can do something for us, and instead look for the people the world overlooks. And we need to see that we all are in equal need of grace and mercy in the eyes of God. And we’re all equally loved in the eyes of God. And if we are in equal need of grace, and we’re all equally loved, we can no longer participate in a system that places more value on some people and less value on others? As we accept Christ’s invitation to join him at Table in the Kingdom of God we must admit that we are only there because of God’s grace and mercy and love.

In a world full of too many rules, too much fear, and too much sadness that tries to convince us otherwise, we are set free from all sorts of bondage. Like the woman in today’s Gospel, we are set free to live in the miracle of new life and second chances and amazing grace and reckless love, every day, in Jesus’ name.

Like Mary singing about what she knows God will do, we carry that same expectant hope of what God in Christ is doing in and through and around us. A hope that sees hate and meets it with love. A hope that sees failure and meets it with opportunity. A hope that sees brokenness and meets it with wholeness. A hope that sees fear and meets it with faith. A hope that sees death and meets it with life. If that isn’t hope, I don’t know what is. And that’s a hope that our schools…our churches…our world is longing for.

Fearless faith isn’t a straight line where we decide to follow God and never doubt or question or fail or want to turn back. Fearless faith doesn’t mean we never struggle with our faith. Fearless faith doesn’t mean we never deconstruct our faith. Fearless faith is taking the next step, knowing God is there. Fearless faith means trusting that God is here, with us, even when we don’t feel it. Fearless faith is believing that God continues to be present, even when we lack the certainty of a vision, or the certainty of direction, or the certainty of anything.

Our historical marker this week is BOLD PRAYER. Followers of Jesus are marked by bold prayer. Despite our enslavement to sin and brokenness and pride and shame, we pray boldly. Our circumstances don’t always change when we pray. But we change. Our hearts and our minds change, as we boldly proclaim that God has been, is, and always will be working in and through us.

We practice the radical welcome of Jesus who turns the world upside down. Everyone is welcome in God’s kingdom. And everyone is welcome at St. Martin’s. As Jesus continues on his journey to Jerusalem, he leaves behind him individuals, households, villages, and a whole world that will never be the same. Because they have glimpsed a new vision of God’s radical welcome.

I have a friend who has the word “hope” tattooed on her arm. It’s a reminder to her of God’s presence and faithfulness in times of gut-wrenching pain and grief. For her, it calls to mind 1 Thessalonians 4:13…”we do not grieve as those who have no hope.” Even when we don’t feel it, we are people of hope. Even when we’re all tears and broken hearts, we are people of hope. Even when it seems like a pinprick of light down a really long hallway, we are people of hope.

The fullness of God is unbearable. The fullness of God is too big, too beautiful, too wild, to be understood, explained, or contained.

How long, oh Lord! We lament. We yell. We grieve. But we don’t grieve as the world grieves. We don’t grieve as people who have no hope. Even in the midst of weeks like this…. Even in the midst of heartache like this… We hope. We have Easter hope.

God redeems and restores and renews the whole world, through love. And the world will know that we are his disciples, not by the right opinions or positions or allegiances. The world will know that we are Jesus’ disciples by our love. We as Christians don’t stand on issues. We walk with people, in love. And God loves everyone. Even you. And even me.

When we walk in faith and love together, your chips and my cracks and your brokenness come together. When we walk in faith and love together, when our life together is shaped by the cross, we're beautiful.

God is always out ahead of us, making all things new!

Today, on Good Friday, the cross stands tall and declares that the story isn’t over if the story isn’t good. Jesus, the perfect, sinless man, today is smashed to pieces with us.

Tonight Jesus washes those chipped and cracked and broken pieces. He’s lovingly preparing these chipped and cracked and broken pieces, because Jesus has something better in store for them. And Jesus is lovingly preparing us, too. Because Jesus has something better in store for us.

I invite you to join us for the triduum, the great three days, as we walk from the upper room to the garden to the cross. You’ll be seeing these bowls again this week. Their brokenness, as a symbol of our brokenness, will be a guide for our Holy Week. I can’t wait to see what God can do with them. And I can’t wait to see what God can do with us. I bet it will be so, so beautiful.

With each step Jesus is saying, “don’t be afraid, I am with you.” With each step Jesus is saying, “you can’t do it all, you need each other.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I will heal you, forgive you, and make you whole.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I will pursue you to the very end even to death and beyond.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I love you.” We just need to open our hands, let go of the stones, and hold on to Jesus.

Learning to love, and learning what to love…learning what to hold on to and what to let go of…that’s the real work of Lent. That’s when Lent gets through to me. That’s when I stop doing Lent, and when I start letting Lent do it’s work on me.