Sermon for Sunday, October 30

Reformation Sunday

Scripture: John 8:31-36

I remember being a confirmation student, in 7th grade, when I first heard about Martin Luther, reformer of the church.  Around Reformation Sunday, we watched the old black and white Martin Luther movie, and my dad, who was my pastor and teacher, explained how Luther back in the 1500s in Germany nailed 95 theses to the door of the Wittenberg Castle Church.  Luther’s written declaration in defiance of the Roman Catholic Church of the time was highly controversial, exposing the corruption of the church, to the point that Luther went into hiding at Wartburg Castle for his safety.  Pope Leo X and Emperor Charles V demanded at the Diet of Worms, basically a holy trial, that Luther recant his writings.  Luther refused saying that his conscience was bound by the will of God, that he could not and would not renounce any of his writings.  “Here I stand; I can do no other,” he famously stated.  As a teenager, what amazed me was the controversy surrounding something purely theological.  Sure, elections (by the way, everyone, please vote), immigration, the size of the federal government, taxes, universal health care, abortion.  I get it.  These are controversial topics.  But grace?  Luther declared, simply, that the people of God were saved by God’s grace, and controversy ensued.  My 14-year-old brain could not compute a world where grace led to upset in the life of Martin Luther, in the church, in the world.

Perhaps, neither can we.  For Luther’s declaration, one which threatened his life, one which drug him before the pope and the emperor, meant that the people of his day, the people of our day, the people of every age need not earn, work for, or any other way labor for salvation.  Instead, Luther insisted, we are saved by God’s grace.  Not works.  Not repentance.  Not even by a declaration of faith.  Just the free, undeserved, unmerited favor of God.  It was this declaration that led to Luther’s excommunication, to his fame, and to the reformation of the church.  It was this declaration that changed the world, that changed the course of human history.  You may think I am exaggerating, but historians both inside and outside the church agree on this point—that Martin Luther left an indelible mark on the world.  And it was all because of grace.

The free, undeserved, unmerited favor of God is our namesake, the center of the Lutheran theological tradition, and the primary practice of a life of faith.  We first received God’s grace in holy baptism, grace  that frees us from the power of sin, death, and evil.  We receive God’s grace in holy communion each Sunday, grace that provides forgiveness of sin, life, and salvation.  We receive God’s grace in the word of God proclaimed, a word that guides our lives.  We receive God’s grace in community, in bonds of love, in relationships that transcend difference and slights and mistakes.  We are not always our best selves, but in this community, we give each other second and third and even fourth chances.  Because we have been shown grace, we are people of grace.   

I hope you know that we, the people of Grace Lutheran Church, are witnesses of God’s grace to our sister congregations in the Grand Canyon Synod of the ELCA, to the congregations of various denominations who partner with us in ministry, to the member institutions of the Hance Park Conservancy which surround the park, and to our community at large.  And what I mean is, people know the grace of God because of our communal witness.  For we—together—have stumbled, and I do mean stumbled, into a way of being that is loving and gracious.  I know sometimes it doesn’t feel like this way of being together as God’s people is particularly successful or loving or gracious.  When the roof is leaking and the A/V doesn’t work.  When the west parking meter takes a full five minutes to process a charge and we are still picking up cigarette butts from the flower beds.  When we are replacing sprinkler heads on the north lawn again and the lift in the sanctuary is stuck again because someone forced the door closed. 

Ha!  Life at Grace is not perfect, not by a long shot, and neither are we perfect.  But what I will carry in my heart from these twelve years at Grace is how we showed up for each other to mourn the death and celebrate the lives of the saints and how we prayed for each other at prayer retreats.  How we showed up in the church kitchen to serve biscuits and gravy, to serve GLOW meals, to prepare heat respite lunches, to fill Food Angel boxes.  How we showed up en masse to serve Oktoberfest brats and to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation.  How we showed up for Ministry Nights and council meetings.  How we gathered for GLOW—to eat together and celebrate birthdays, to engage in civil dialogue and story circles, to study scripture and sing What A Fellowship, What A Joy Divine.  How we got lost together on the Oregon mission trip, served—and walked--together all over Manhattan and DC, not to mention weeks of Campformation, lock-ins, and confirmation classes.  How we danced and sang and crafted together during Vacation Bible School and performed Christmas programs donned in angel wings and robes.  How we traveled together by plane, party bus, city bus, school bus, and boat on our way to and from Holden Village.  How we sang Holden Evening Prayer together during Lent and washed each other’s feet on Maundy Thursdays.  Even how we argued and disagreed, how we triangulated and gossiped, how we made huge mistakes—but by the grace of God forgave each other and learned new ways of communicating.  There are really so many memories that no sharing could do them justice, but most of all, I will carry in my heart how we showed up for worship—to put our faith in motion, to pray for each other, to sing, to share the peace, to receive in bread and wine the body and blood of Christ.  All the times we showed up and served in countless ways, all the hours we have spent here together, it wasn’t because we were earning points with God.  Rather, what we have encountered at Grace is the grace of God poured out, a grace that frees us, just like Jesus says in today’s gospel, a grace that upsets our lives, the church, and the world in all the good ways.

As we go into our daily lives, at work or school, at the library or the grocery store, in our neighborhoods or among our families, God’s grace isn’t just the name of this church, and it isn’t just the central doctrine of the Lutheran tradition.  God’s grace is what we share when we forgive, when we serve, when we care about people for no other reason than we just care about people.  God’s grace, that we have received many times over, is our gift to share with a world that struggles right now to love each other, to even talk to each other.  So, on this Reformation Sunday, we celebrate God’s great love for us and all creation, a love and grace that, when shared, upsets our lives, the church, and the world in all the right ways.  For that, may we proclaim: Thanks be to God!  Amen.