Sermons By Alan Bentrup

In today’s parable, we’re invited to see how God is always at work in our lives, like a seed scattered upon the earth. As a seed does its seed thing, so the kingdom does its kingdom thing. We may not understand it. Outward appearances may even suggest God is absent. It may look like nothing is happening. We sleep and rise. We wait. We trust. We hope. We pray. We go about the ordinary work of life. Yet within that ordinariness, the life of God has already been planted in each one of us. One day it sprouts. It grows. The invisible becomes visible. The full harvest was always there, hidden in the seeds. It may have been invisible but it was never absent. We now see what has always been.

It’s alright if the world thinks you’re a little weird, because family even loves the weird ones.

For God so loves Nicodemus. For God so loves you. For God so loves me. For God so loves the whole world...that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but may have eternal life.

Jesus comes to us - behind any locked doors we try to put in the way- and gives us his peace. Then he gives us his power to do the kinds of things that mere humans can’t do, the kind of things that Jesus was doing. Things like defeating our own selΟshness, loving other people, tending to the sick and suΜering, breaking down walls of division, and reconciling the world.

And what if we took our cue from Jesus? What if we came to the thresholds in our life trusting that Jesus Christ is with us. In the joy and in the sorrow. In the hope and in the despair. In the living and in the dying. Jesus is with us...always with us...at the threshold. And we know that Easter is always on the other side.

God’s love knows no boundary. God’s love knows no division. God’s love knows no “us” and “them.”

What are we willing to risk?

It’s rather like being on the roller coaster of our salvation story: the joyous wine of the banquet mixed with the bitterness of betrayal; the shame and agony of crucifixion answered with the unbelievable promise of life beyond the grave.

Jesus chose to give in a world that takes. Jesus chose to love in a world that hates. Jesus chose to heal in a world that injures. Jesus chose peace in a world at war. Jesus chose to give life in a world that kills. Jesus offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent.

At the deepest level our Nazareths are about our understanding of God. We just can’t see how anything good can come out of Nazareth. We cannot believe that God can be present, active, and revealed in Nazareth, whether it be another person, a relationship, a situation, or our own life.

St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church (Columbia, S.C.) Luke 2:31-52

Christmas this year has been isolating for many. Maybe it was for you. But the Good News of God in Christ is that the Word has become flesh and dwells among us. The Word isn’t just present in the big fancy church services, or the wonderful family dinners, or the Christmas parties. God is not just with us on the days when our calendars or homes or hearts are full. God is with us in the everyday, mundane, isolated moments. God is with us in the joy and the sorrow. God is with us in the dark and the light. God is with us in death and in life.

What are we willing to risk for the treasure entrusted to us?

Sometimes you have to ditch your sermon and just talk about division and reconciliation for 20 minutes...

How many times must we choose to forgive? Tell me this. How many times have you been hurt and suffered by the actions or words of another? How many times has anger or fear controlled you? How many times has the thought of revenge filled you? How many times have you shuddered at the sight, the name, or the memory of another? How many times have you replayed in your head the argument with another? That’s how many times you choose. “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.”

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,” he says. Let your heart love like Jesus. Let your mind be filled with the same concerns as Jesus. Let your feet walk in step Jesus. Let your hands touch the world like Jesus. Let your eyes see the world like Jesus sees the world. Live a life yoked with Jesus Christ, living and moving and breathing as one, and you will find rest for your soul.

Loving Jesus first doesn’t mean only loving Jesus. We still love our friends, our families, our communities, and ourselves. But when we love those things first, before or without Jesus at the center, that’s idolatry. When our first love is Jesus, we can love our families best. Even and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in our families. When our first love is Jesus, we can love our country and community best. Even - and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in our country and community. When our first love is Jesus, we can love ourselves best. Even - and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in ourselves.

We’re in different homes, different cities, different places, with our own gifts and abilities. But we’re together, even when we’re apart. (Preached from my back yard for the good folks of Holy Trinity, Clemson)

What do we do when everything is changing?

How are we the light of the world when the power has gone out?