Author: John Langenstein

Day 2 – Anamnesis

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

The first full day I’ve spent in Charlotte has been… full. The actual legislative process begins Wednesday, but delegates, staff, bishops, and news teams are all running around preparing for the next week and a half. I’m writing drafts that may not ever see the light of day, but as a wise friend said, “It is always easier to edit than to create.” Doing the basic research and work now will save me trouble in the long run.

I took a break from prep to go get lunch with a friend. Delicious curry at a good price. I’d do an ad pivot, but I’ll retain the sanctity of this blog for now. The lunch itself carried a deeper reality to it than good food though. Connection is what defines us as human beings, more than anything. To sit and talk with someone: to celebrate and speculate, to laugh and to commiserate. It is a holy thing.

The thought that sat with me as I walked around the circumference of the Conference Center and the nearby park was the importance of remembering. I may never be in Charlotte again, but I am here now. There will never be another 2020 2024 General Conference, but there is now. The brickwork in the center of the park and the aggressive rushing of the fountain. The awkward engagement photoshoot next to the columbarium of a Catholic Church. All of these are things that I have to appreciate while I am looking at them, because I may not see them again. I can never see them as I see them now, that much is certain.

I see things both funny and serious as I wander. I find it hilarious that a statue showcasing the wonders of the written word seems to be accidentally implying the foundation of all literature is Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex.

Then there are the more serious observations. Beside the columbarium, where the faithful dead rest, there is a statue of St. Ignatius of Loyola. He stands with an arm outstretched, and that hand he has put forward is worn. There have been countless people who reached their hand out to the Saint and held it. In prayer? In desperation? It does not matter, but people saw the face of Ignatius and in it saw a source of comfort they had to feel to truly know.

I took hold of Ignatius’s hand too. I looked in those bronze eyes and spoke to him. I do not know my full feeling on how we are to engage with those who have gone to glory. I know our Articles of Religion call the invocation of the Saints, “a fond thing, vainly invented…” Yet I do believe that all the faithful dead remain conscious of us in paradise. I trust they still pray for us.

So I spoke to Ignatius, the man or the idea it does not much matter.

“Ignatius, you founded the Jesuits. I don’t know if that means we would agree on much if we met or not. However, I believe we are both men of God, and that is enough. Ignatius, pray for all of God’s people, and do not forget your siblings, the Methodists, for we sorely need it.”

I hope we all may continue to pray. There is life and hope abundant, but we must see it and embrace it to fully know it. May the Saints below and the Saints above never cease to ask God to care for God’s Church. Here, as we United Methodists gather, I pray God will work wonders here in Charlotte.

Day 1 – Introit

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Today begins my journey down to Charlotte, NC for General Conference 2020 2024. It is the first General Conference I’ll ever have attended, as well as the first one I will be working as a member of the press for. My purpose in going is to capture the stories of what the Church is doing, and specifically how this impacts people of the West Virginia Annual Conference. I will also hope to show our delegates and members shine in their connectional roles. This is a chance to tell the story of how God is at work in the midst of a process we often forget is founded on the Spirit – not just the fights that we have in the Spirit’s presence.

I go, like all people, with expectations and hopes and predictions. Yet, I am not writing this to be another think piece, letter to the editor, or “inside track,” to the happenings of the General Conference. I don’t know how many times I’ll sit down and type something out, I’m not even sure the format I’ll land on for them, but I know I feel compelled to write.

I feel compelled to write about the beauty of what conferencing allows us to do, to capture the humanity of those gathered in the process. People from all over the world are coming together and in that gathering there is hope. Hope for a sort of unity that transcends the barriers we place around ourselves. Hope for a Church that is ever expanding in its shows of grace. Hope for a future with better things ahead than were ever behind us.

I have become more and more enamored with the simple beauty of life. The flowers that grow out of the ground, the blooms that demand not only to live but to enrich the world around them with color. The expression of compassion that all living things seem to be capable of showing – from a cat curled on my chest to the bird that circles its nest. Above all else, I love humanity in its broken glory. Reflections, each and every one of us, of the Divine Image, we shine like nothing else. We laugh, we cry, we hurt, and we reconcile. We aspire to the height Irenaeus put forward for us, “The Glory of God is a living person, and the life of a person is in beholding God.”

I hope to capture some of the beauty of humanity in sitting down and reflecting each day. Not in denial of our worse tendencies nor to obfuscate the difficult work of legislation. I only wish to see beauty, to name it, and to give it its due consideration. There is a need to tell stories that are beautiful, in a world that is so often full-up on sorrow. The bold defiance of the lilies, here today and gone tomorrow. The quiet assurance felt by sparrows that go by their business day after day. Christ told us to find peace in these simple things. May the beauty of Holy Conferencing, and the people who make it happen, be present in all I deign to write.

John Langenstein.
04/21/2024
At my desk at home, awaiting services,
and the long drive to Charlotte.

Sermon 04/21/2024 – Church is: Healing

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Acts 4:5-12

The next day their rulers, elders, and scribes assembled in Jerusalem, with Annas the high priest, Caiaphas, John, and Alexander, and all who were of the high-priestly family. When they had made the prisoners stand in their midst, they inquired, “By what power or by what name did you do this?” Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them, “Rulers of the people and elders, if we are being questioned today because of a good deed done to someone who was sick and are being asked how this man has been healed, let it be known to all of you, and to all the people of Israel, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead. This Jesus is

‘the stone that was rejected by you, the builders;

    it has become the cornerstone.’

“There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.”

Sermon Text

The early Church existed at a dangerous time for small sects of any faith. There was one religion that was fully accepted in the Roman Empire, and that was the Imperial Cult itself. While local deities, and even national deities, could be worshipped freely – the one person who needed to be worshipped was the Emperor. Properly speaking, a spirit known as the “Genius,” was worshipped to the benefit of the Emperor. This spirit was the highest spiritual ideal of a person, their source and also their sustaining principle. When the Emperor died they were usually deified as gods, but in life this sustaining Spirit was what was worshipped.

All people were meant to offer sacrifices toward this personal deity of the Emperor alongside their other gods. For the polytheists throughout the empire, this was not a problem, but for anyone who was a monotheist that simply was not possible. For the Jews they were given an excuse, they were older than the Roman Empire and so their rituals and deity were given special status – monotheism was permitted where it was usually forbidden.[1] Other cults that formed around singular deities were not permitted the same allowance. The denial of worshipping local deities and especially the Genius of the Emperor was considered a form of treason – how could the gods sustain the empire if they were not honored? How could the spirit guarding the Emperor act without propitiation?

Of the dissident faiths of the Roman Empire, only one would survive into the present era. Christianity, founded on the premise of worshipping Jesus of Nazareth as God, had neither the ancient status of Judaism nor the benefit of Roman tolerance. The refusal of worshipping the Genius or worshipping local deities was unforgiveable treason and grounds for execution.

Later historians would inflate the persecution of Christians, at least in terms of numbers, but the reality of Christian persecution is clear. Pliny the Younger, a Roman Governor, seemed to regard Christians as mostly harmless despite their seditious lack of imperial faith. He would ask suspected Christians to recant their faith three times, each time offering them food and wine to offer to images of the Emperor or of a god. When they refused three times they would be executed or extradited. This was the standard form of persecution – particular to specific cases and carried out by people who disliked minority religions more so than by people who hated Christians specifically.

Paul, the writer of most of the New Testament, experienced more hardships than most. Having traveled to new regions and presenting Christianity for the first time, he was often cast out of town and abused by their inhabitants. Those who he left behind likewise would suffer social ostracization and abuse. Within a few years of Paul’s death, itself execution for religious dissidence, the emperor Nero would establish an empire wide ban on Christianity, blaming them for the destruction of Rome. Christianity was persecuted in a way it had never been before and the people of God looked to scripture to understand what to do.

Amid the many instructions of Christ and the disciples was a consistent rhythm regarding personal conduct. On top of the general teachings of the Church, the commandments given by Moses and by Christ, the Christians were meant to live a life that was so obviously good that any accusations laid at their feet would be ridiculous. 1 Peter 3 makes this clear, saying explicitly that someone who lives a blameless life will put their accusers to shame – even if they are killed the people who knew them would know the truth, erasing the power of their oppressors. The same is true of Romans 13, an admonition against violating civil power in order to respect God, but also to preserve the reputation of God’s people.

One problem of the modern Church is that we defend ourselves through obfuscation far more often than we defend ourselves through positive example. Whenever a scandal happens in the Church, we point the other way and try to say that because the majority of the Church does not engage in something harmful, then the Church is not actually responsible for that offense. When a minister in another conference of the UMC was found having inappropriate relationship with a parishioner, he was the sinner in the situation that is true, but when the decision was made to moved him to another church rather than defrocking or rehabilitating him – it seems to me that we all suddenly became complicit in that situation.

That’s a bigger example though, we can look at smaller instances. There is a meme that goes around all the time, “If you left the Church because of something someone did, the Church didn’t hurt you, people did. Come back.” A fine idea, and with some truth behind it. However, there is one problem in this idea from my perspective – what is the Church? The institution? The building? I’ve often been of the impression that the people are the Church, and if the People hurt you, then you do have a legitimate problem with “The Church.” Our defense against people who have been hurt by the Church is to pretend that they were actually hurt by something else, something over there, anything but by us.

Sometimes people I know will distance themselves from clergy and Christians they disagree with. I myself will tell you openly when I think talking heads in the Church-sphere are not good people to listen to. Yet, I do not deny they are Christians and that I am responsible for them to a certain extent. The body of Christ is one body, and even though we have a created a bunch of sects and individual buildings, and barriers betwixt us, we are all one people. Even the parts of us that are hurtful and that we wish were not part of the body, are part of the Church. If they are unwilling to change, they will continue to be both harmful and Christian.

The scripture we read today shows the apostles being brought before the Sanhedrin, a group of leaders in Jerusalem who oversaw religious happenings in Jerusalem and some civil cases as well. Peter and crew would be brought before them several times in the early parts of Acts. Each time the disciples thwarted the accusations against them with a simple truth – they had done no harm to anyone, in fact they were helping other people. The powers that be could organize a mob to hurt them, they had done so with Christ and secured a conviction, however this was not a midnight meeting like the one that convicted Christ. The whole council was there, not just the conspirators, and they were not as zealous in their hatred of Jesus as those who met on Good Friday were.

Peter is asked how he healed these people, and his defense begins simply with the truth, “To be clear, I am here because you did not like how I healed someone! I’ll answer your question, but I want it on the record why you brought me in today!” The tactic worked, and they were released after being reprimanded by the court. A later trial would have them gaining the respect of Gamaliel, teacher of Paul of Tarsus and prominent teacher. It was not until a Greek Speaking Jew, Stephen, was brought before the council that enough animosity could be brought against a Christian to kill them. Again, not by law, but through mob violence. His sin, again, was in feeding the hungry and in proclaiming the Gospel.

If a Church and the people in it aspire to live well, then it will be hard to accuse them of anything. If they are founded on taking care of people, in feeding the hungry, in clothing the poor, then anyone who says “Well you know how those Christians are,” will be able to be told, “Well, I don’t know about all Christians, but these folk are good folk.” That’s the reputation we need to strive for, the thing that makes people question their criticism of faith, and that provides a positive association with Christ. That is what the Church is meant to do.

This is, perhaps, the completion of our message from last week. The Spirit leads us to repent to change, and in so doing we become people that no one can deny are truly seeking to do good. Will we fall short and fail? Of course. However, an earnest attempt at doing right on the part of an individual and of a church makes a huge difference. The Church has fallen out of the good graces of the public, not simply because people don’t want to be a part of us, but because when people pointed out the wrong we have done, all we had was trite and rehearsed responses. If we truly were doing the good work we are called to, no one could shame us and find support from people who know us.

The key thing here is that we do not do good to have a good reputation, but that we understand that the importance of consistently doing good is not just one dimensional. First and foremost, we seek to do good and heal this world because it is good and right to do so. Secondly, and we know it is good because of this, we do so because it benefits the people around us, and if we love people we want them to flourish. Somewhere down the list of reasons to do good is this matter of reputation, but it is important to think that beyond the singular moment of an action and its consequences, there are infinite ripples. Ripples in expectations, ripples in understanding, ripples in truth.

We have to live a life so that the perspective people have of us, of the Church, of Christ, is one of love and truth and power. When we fail, we need to be up front and apologetic, because if we cannot truly make amends for wrong, we will never grow as a people. Yet, if we do all these things, if we can be the Church as it is meant to be – a place of Healing, of Redemption, and of Communion – then we will see the glory of the Lord in this life. We will see the Body of Christ, be as it was always meant to be. – Amen.

[1] This claim is somewhat controversial among scholars. Partly this is because of the clear antisemitism of Roman society. There was also no official status given to the Jews, except by individual emperors. This is why people like Claudius was able to expel the Jews, their status was dependent upon those in power and not secured in the writ of law.

Sermon 04/14/2024 – Church is: Redemption

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

The Epistle Lesson                                                                     1 John 3:1-7

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.

Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins; no one who sins has either seen him or known him. Little children, let no one deceive you. Everyone who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous.

Sermon Text

 The business of the Church, in all lo and places, regardless of context, is to repair the broken things of the world. This redemptive mission undergirds every part of our work. The problem with redemption, however, is that it is hard. It is hard to make the world better and it is hard to make ourselves better and because of this we settle for a hundred thousand lesser missions than this. Redemption is a work that only God can achieve and that we are privileged to partake in, but the work that we begin is much more manageable, and much easier to control.

Look at the way we address most problems in life, reactively rather than proactively. The potholes in our streets could be addressed if we funded regular upkeep of our infrastructure instead of hasty repairs when the road is already damaged. Health can be improved by taking measures as simple as taking vitamins and keeping up on vaccination, and yet most preventive medicine is not covered by most insurances. Finances are more secure when savings are put away, but oftentimes the demands of life make it hard to put much at all away, especially as prices have soured across the last decade or so. Our hope to fix things, even mundane things, is stopped by hundreds of confounding factors we face at any given moment.

Yet, God calls us to restore this world to something like what it was in Eden. There is to be a growth in trust where we have given ourselves to doubt. There is to be a mutual love and care where there is currently apathy and forgetfulness. There is to be a better world in the place of the one that is currently suffering under the reign of sin and death. We are to be people who want to see the world change for the better and who want to change our own lives to be better at contributing to that goal.

Faith is not meant to be an oppressive thing, Christ is clear again and again that what he offers us is a much better alternative than what the world is offering. This does not mean, however, that the life of faith does not have its own hardships. It is hard to grow, it is hard to do what is right, and it is hard to face the fact that we are all of us in need of change. The simple fact is, as we draw nearer to God we should experience a contradictory emotional swell. On one hand we should enjoy the joy that comes from knowing God and feeling the joy of salvation, the freedom it brings. On the other hand we should become more and more aware of our own failings, of the way our carelessness hurts others. There is a need to grieve even as we rejoice, because we take part in the brokenness of the world unless we live perfectly.

The idea of perfection is scary, but it is the goal we have to chase after. As John says in our Epistle reading, if we live fully in Christ than we ought not to sin. The person who does what is right is righteous, but the one who does wrong is lawless – without God’s instruction. There is no room in John’s presentation to imagine that this warning is only for perpetual sinners or especially profound wrongdoing. John wants us to see every sin that we commit for what it is, a wedge that gets between us and God. If we see sin as this, as something that keeps us from God, and we see God as the source of life and joy and happiness itself, then we should be upset that we choose sin again and again and again.

The more I grow in faith, the more I am sure that I am a deplorable person. There are things that I cannot seem to escape that I just go back to again and again, like a dog to its own vomit. The good things I do, for me, are swallowed up in the wickedness I participate in. The hateful thoughts, the judging eyes, and all manner of other corruption is not unique to those who make a habit of it. We are all guilty of sinning, all prone to erring in a way we should not. We all, if we are honest, are not living the life we should be – not even close most of the time. There is a need for us to be holy, and that need is apparent in the fact that the world is so sad so often, so bleak and violent and miserable.

1 John offers a contradictory path throughout its pages. While it is so clear again and again that we are sinful and that our participation in sin means that we cannot call ourselves righteous, the mourning of our failings is not meant to make us lock up. It is not meant to be something that we hate ourselves for. It is not even something that the scripture seems to linger on. Instead, John gives us a way out of the mess. Firstly in saying that those who do sin, all of us, can depend that Christ is faithful to forgive us. Praise God! That we can seek forgiveness from God and those we hurt and know that we can receive it from one source at least.

The second reiteration, again and again, across all of the Johennine Epistles, is so simple. “People of God, we are sinners, but thank God we are redeemed in Christ. The same Christ who gives us a new commandment, which is not new but has with us from the beginning.” That commandment, can anyone guess what it is? That we love one another. The secret out of sin is not self-loathing, it is self-love. Love enough to grow out of the things that hurt us and those around us. The secret out of sin is not hatred of others, but a love that promises to grow alongside each other. We are all in this together, and unless we all can search our hearts and accept our part in the mess around us, it will never be healed.

The Church suffers when we see Sin as something that is either wiped away with a simple prayer or that is mostly other people’s problems. On the one hand, we forget that we are called to grow closer to Christ’s perfection every day. On the other, we pretend that we are righteous in a way no one else is. In reality, we are all stuck in the mud. We all need to help to lift each other out of it.

I think one of the problems we have had in the Church is that for the past hundred years we have been caught up in culture wars, rather than wars against the Sin that we all know lives within us. We fought in the 20s against Evolution, in the thirties against socialism, in the fifties against communism, in the sixties against civil rights, in the seventies against rock and roll, in the eighties against Dungeons and Dragons, in the nineties against rap, in the oughts against gays, and now against trans people. Always a target moving from one person to the other to the other, but never a moment of introspection for ourselves.

What would have happened, if all that energy then and now that went into interrogating other people’s business and chasing after the supposed enemies that someone told us we had, we all just tried to be holier? What if we aspired to live like Christ did? To feed the hungry, to care for the sick, to push back when others try to exclude people from the table. One may say, “Ah, but I saw sin in what those people I was yelling at were doing!” Be that as it may, John’s instruction was to be better at loving each other, to repent earnestly of your own sins, and to grow in holiness that way. Sin is real, people of God, but the fact it only ever exists in “that person over there,” should probably tell us we do not care much about sin and our salvation from it, but do care a great deal about looking and sounding like we have nothing to do with it.

There is one thing that John describes as being “Anti-Christ,” in all of this book. Yes, it is possible to be lawless as a person, but only one thing is antithetical to the work of the Church, says the Epistle. That one thing? Denying Christ’s bodily life, death, and resurrection. This is why I believe that all Christians can come to terms, if we accept those three things. If we accept Christ came and lived among us perfectly, then we have an image to aspire to. If Christ died for our sins, then we have a reason to hope that we too can overcome sin and death. If Christ rose again, then there is a life everlasting and an advocate who will hear my prayers and hold my hand as I take the long narrow road to perfection in Paradise.

People of God, do you believe God can redeem you? Then repent today, not tomorrow. Repent for your own sins, not your neighbors, and seek to grow in love, which is the essence of all the Law and the prophets. The work of the Church is redemption, and we must take part in it and be recipients of it. – Amen.

Sermon 04/07/2024 – Church is: Communion

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Acts 4:32-35

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

Sermon Text

Every year, after the Easter Season has begun, one of the first scriptures to appear in the lectionary is the one we read this morning. It tells a simple story, the disciples were doing the work of the Church and because they did what God called them to do, the Church grew by leaps and bounds. This message gives relief to us today. The secret to vitality is not something hidden away, unknowable to the average person. A Church flourishes when it follows the Spirit where it goes. If we let God teach us to speak as we have never spoken, love as we have never loved, and do as we have never done… Then we will find that life naturally flourishes within our community.

We are coming up on General Conference, the long delayed and anticipated meeting of the United Methodist Church’s legislative body to determine what the next four years of our denomination looks like. There are a lot of things on the table this year, after all we skipped 2020 due to the pandemic. This means that everything that was supposed to be renewed then is overdue now, and all the legislation that had been proposed then has been gathering dust. It will be an emotional gathering and it will be a tense one. There will be people there ready to further the work of the Church and people there who would very much like to see the whole thing burn. Yet, it will be a gathering of the Church, and we will keep it holy somehow.

As we enter into that season, we have three Sundays to address a question we should already know something about. What is Church? What does it mean that we gather together and worship? How do we serve the world? What are we doing? We will do this in part through the General Conference study we are offering across the next two weeks, but we are also exploring it through our gatherings here. Scripture has a wealth of information for us, if only we are willing to read it and understand.

The scripture we read today describes the Church immediately after Pentecost and it captures a moment where the Church functioned as it never would again. The people of God had perfected their vision of the Body of Christ. For a moment the Church gave up on anything worldly – people sold their property so that everyone had the food and clothing and shelter they needed. The word used here (ὑπάρχω, huparcho,) suggests that people were selling everything they had the ability to sell. I do not mean, everything that was left over after they took care of themselves, I mean everything they legally owned and therefore had the authority to share. The people sold everything they had, to make sure that everyone had what they needed.

The reason this was possible was not because of any specific economic reality that was present in the first century, but because the Church developed an understanding of a term I absolutely adore,  κοινός (Koinos,) which simply means “Common.” The term can be used to describe something vulgar, but it is used here in the sense of something held by everyone. It is turned into a more abstract idea elsewhere in scripture, being described as “Koinonia,” the state of being in unity, in connection, in Communion. Our celebration of the Eucharist took on the name Communion to reflect the unity it gives us together, but Communion itself is something we strive for in all we do.

Why were the disciples willing to sell everything they had and live together as one people? Because they trusted each other as they trusted themselves. The Church was willing to give all they had, because they knew if they needed something they would be able to get what they needed, because everyone was fully participating in this resurrected community. When I know that you will not take advantage of me, and I do not want to take advantage of you, then both of us are more willing to share than we ever would be before.

The purpose of the Church is to create an alternative community to the one which the world builds for itself. We do this by proclaiming the world that Christ showed us in his time among us. A world that does not bow to civil power plays or the politicking of the same. A world based upon the revelation of God to all people and the transformation of lives for the good of everyone, not just the select few. We preach a Gospel that is transformative precisely because it invites people to come together and be something different together. We cannot be a Christian on our own, we need the full people of God together to truly be our fullest selves.

As a conference we have set a discipleship goal to transform our worship spaces. Not just concerned with Sunday morning, we want to get people to live life together. I would say that we are blessed in our congregations that we already do some of this of hard work together. We are a church that likes each other and that is a blessing. The change we are striving after is to be more intentional in the way we live life together. As a parish we are working toward beginning Class Meetings again, where those who wish to grow deeper in their faith and love toward one another can do so together.

The Church does not grow by having better music or more programs. It grows by being willing to go into the world, to share all it has with one another and with those around it. The Church grows when it becomes the image of God for all the world to see. Why? Because when people see God they cannot deny they want to be a part of what God is doing. We have the ability to be that vision to the people around us, but only if we stand together. The Church must embrace its Communion fully – we are one in heart and soul, born of the same waters of baptism and worshipping the same Lord. If we wish to be all we can be, we have to be wiling to take hold of the life, the light, and the resurrection – not as individuals – but as one people living, loving, and serving together. – Amen.

Sermon 03/31/2024 – Terror, Amazement, Hope

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

The Gospel Lesson                                                                    Mark 16:1-8

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

And all that had been commanded them they told briefly to those around Peter. And afterward Jesus himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation. Amen.
Sermon Text – Easter Sunday

Easter is here! We celebrate Christ’s resurrection and proclaim that death has no claim over life. In dying Christ has set us free from Sin and in rising again Christ has opened the door for use to live eternally. The resurrection is the foundation of our faith. If the resurrection did not happen then we would have no reason to gather together as God’s people. The Kingdom would have remained closed, a potential that never came to be. Despite the many different cultures and contexts, opinions and practices that Christians have – here in the resurrection we find common ground. We all share in this New Birth and we all proclaim it today as one people.

Our scripture for the day captures the first reaction that Jesus’s followers had to the resurrection. Several women came to Christ’s tomb to properly bury him. He had been left without any preparation because a holy day was starting as he died. The women gathered to give him a proper burial, to show him the honor that a life like his was worthy of. They worried as they waked there, realizing that they were not capable of opening the tomb which had been sealed with a large rock. They walked on though, confident that they would enter somehow and finish their work.

They arrive at the tomb to find the rock has already been moved and the guards on duty had left their station. Thoughts flood through their minds of what could have happened. Did the soldiers take their teacher and hide him away? Worse yet, have they put him out as an example somewhere? Maybe they left and grave robbers pried open the door looking for treasures that simply were not there. Whatever has happened it must not be good…

They enter though, not sure what is going to happen. Inside they find a man dressed in white, and he tells them that Christ has risen from the dead and is no longer there. They are told to leave and tell the other disciples what had happened, and where Christ would find them.

The women are described as fleeing the scene, not just leaving. They run as fast as they can because they are terrified. The two words translated as fear and amazement literally mean “trembling and ecstasy.” On one hand they are shaking with fear, but on the other they are so shocked at what just happened that they seem to be in a different world entirely. Elsewhere, “Ecstasy,” is used to describe religious visions. The women fleeing the tomb are in a new reality from what they had been in before. Before this moment, death was absolute, and now resurrection is possible. Before this moment, Christ had lost to the powers of this world, and now Christ had overcome them all.

The other Gospels include stories of the disciples meeting with Jesus and him giving further instructions of how to conduct themselves on their way to Galilee. Mark keeps it simple. Older Bibles may include a longer ending to Mark, but this was added later to make it seem more like the longer Gospels. In the original version of Mark the story is left open, because the story of what Christ has done is not over. The terror of the moment, the amazement of a new world being born, all leads to us being in this room today – and to us going into the world to do God’s will.

We all get to enjoy God’s goodness and we all are able to take part in God’s new Kingdom. The light shines in the darkness and it cannot be stopped. The sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal life is ours to make and the world needs to hear it. Our life is always meant to tell the story of God’s work in this world, but today especially we must proclaim God’s goodness. Go out into the world then, to all people you meet, and let the love of God shine out. Proclaim the resurrection and the life and celebrate. Christ has overcome all obstacles let us worship him and take part in the life we have been freely offered. – Amen.

Sermon 03/28/2024 – Obla(tion) – Maundy Thursday 2024

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

The Gospel Lesson                                                      John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them…

Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
Sermon Text – Maundy Thursday

There are many things that Christ does for us, but the one that is shown throughout scripture is the act of a divine washer. Christ washes away Sin – both cosmically from the universe and personally within ourselves. Christ washes aways tears from our eyes. Christ washes dust and dirt from the feet of his followers. Simple as the sing may be, it was a statement that was clear – I am here to clean up the mess that has been made by those who went ahead of me.

Thirteen disciples had their feet washed as they came to dinner that night. These were not nearly enough people to be emblematic of all human sins, but we can imagine them all the same. A disciple comes near, and Jesus washes away pride. A disciple comes near and Jesus washes away hate. Jesus washes away jealousy. Jesus washes away greed, lust, apathy, theft, murder, lies, cheating, subterfuge, cruelty, and even betrayal. Christ’s washing away of sin was complete to make a few things clear – as Christ said to Peter, “One who has bathed has no need to wash, except for his feet.” The disciples had known Christ’s redemptive work already, meaning that the Sins they committed so soon after this dinner was over were all their own. It also meant that all those gathered in this room were part of Christ’s kingdom.

Peter, the one who denied him three times was as much a part of Christ’s Kingdom as John who never left his side. Judas who betrayed him to death was a part of his Kingdom as much as Thomas who found faith in the Upper Room just a week later. We as God’s people are part of God’s kingdom, but we decide whether we are part of it in name only or in our hearts. We have been washed in the blood, yet our feet are constantly made dirty by the same foul ground we walked through before we were saved. Today we recreate the act of service Christ showed his disciples, the simple act of washing feet. Let it be for us a reminder to start new. – Amen.

Sermon 03/24/2024 – Adora(tion) – Palm Sunday 2024

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Mark 11:1-11

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this: ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’ ”

They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said, and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple, and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

Sermon Text

 When we gather together on Sundays, what do we tend to call our meeting? Two terms come to mind – we gather for “Service,” and we gather for “Worship.” The two terms are related, but how do we make that connection and why? What about our gathering is a service and how are we ever able to define “worship?”

The first is easier than the others. We are not, as my initial thought when I started looking at these words, calling what we do “Service,” in the sense of us helping God. That would be a strange way to talk about Sunday mornings. Service, it turns out, does not actually mean “help,” not in its literal meaning at least, though we use it that way all the time. If we trace it back to origin of the work in French and by extension Latin, then the focus moves from just helping to a more wide-reaching action. To serve is to make oneself available, to pay homage, to give oneself over to work for someone. Servitum, from which we derive the word service is also the root of “servitude,” after all.

To make the statement that we are gathering for “service,” means that we gather here on a Sunday to offer ourselves up to God. We offer ourselves up to follow what God is asking us to go into the world and do. We offer ourselves up to receive what God is offering to give to us. We offer ourselves up and empty ourselves of anything but what God would have us do and be and receive. We offer ourselves up in worship and that is why we call it, “Service.”

Worship then is the word we still have to define. What does worship mean? I’ll open that up to you all, what does it mean to worship God? All of these are aspects of what we are getting toward with worship. In English, “Worship,” comes from an older word which essentially means “to give what is owed to what is worthy.”[1] Specifically this came to mean giving something to a god that fit the status of that god in the giver’s heart. So, on this level “worship,” means to give something to God, simple enough right?

Not apparently. The concept of giving something to God is complicated enough that the Church developed two different words to describe how people give honor to something. These terms were “latria,” and “dulia.” Latria is what we give when we honor great people, lifting up heroes or saints that we celebrate for the example they give us to follow. Dulia was meant only for God though, a special kind of honor. The gifts we bring to God, whatever they may be, are therefore meant to be different and more significant than that kind we give to anything else in our life. “Worship,” then, is something special we offer up to God. Something that can be captures in presence, in prayer, singing, and in the work and resources we offer to our neighbors.

I think there’s a simpler way to understand “worship,” though, and that is with a bit of an antiquated word, “adoration.” Adoration is another word that comes out of ancient terms for worship, but it conveys something that connects more clearly to our modern understandings of language. When we hear old hymns and prayers that describe Christ as, “Our most Adorable Lord, Jesus,” it may seem weird, but I want to give you a direct examples of why that language still works. Babies. If you bring a baby into the room, people immediately and often involuntarily react. “Aww!” “How cute!” “Wow so much hair!” All kinds of reactions just happen. While this is an example of “latria,” in the old way of naming these things, I think it shows us something about how Palm Sunday happened the way it did so many centuries ago.

Today is a day that the Church celebrates “worship,” in its purest sense. When we see something come and offer ourselves up  to God, when we give God all that we can in a way we can only give to God. There was a natural outpouring in response to Jesus entering the city and it was not like anything Jerusalem had seen for years and years. People were ripping their clothes off and throwing them in the roads, tearing down trees so they could shake them and throw them on the ground as they sang. They screamed out “Hosannah!” A word we do not fully understand the meaning of today, but seems to be a deep, heart felt cry meaning something like “Save us!”

In worship we are often waiting for something to inspire us to react this way. However, the only thing that can really bring us to that place, authentically, is God. Music is nice, prayers written well are nice, but it is only an authentic meeting with God that causes us to cry out “Hallelujah!” and “Amen!” When God shows up, we react, and that can take so many forms. Hands in the air! Tears streaming down our face! Or, most frightening and powerful, a sudden impulse to give everything we have to all that God would have us do.  There are wonders at work in God’s creation and when God shows up, I pray that we can cry out like the crowd did by the gates of Jerusalem long ago.

We have Palm Sprigs in hand, we have the songs of our faith resting in our mouth, now we need to let ourselves embrace the Spirit when it comes. In Bible Study recently we saw two ways that God meets with people – spontaneously and suddenly – but also whenever God’s people called on God’s name, God appeared. We have to trust that God shows up when we gather, trust that God is at work on every day that we wake up and say “Yes!” to what God is doing. We have to be willing to see what God is up to and celebrate when the divine crosses our path. Open your eyes, open your ears! Salvation is coming! Hallelujah! Hosannah! Amen!

[1] Online Etymology Dictionary. https://www.etymonline.com/word/worship,

Sermon 03/17/2024 – Confirma(tion)

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

John 12:20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew, then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say: ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

Sermon Text

 There are many triumphs in a life of faith, as there are many triumphs in Christ’s story. When we look at the progression of Lent and the texts we’ve looked at, we should see that there are highs and lows for God’s people. Sometimes we are rejected by others because we pursue righteousness, yet other times we are lifted up to do something exceptional. There are times when we are called to shake the foundations of this broken world we live in and times where we are permitted in faith to simply live in the knowledge that God has done the hard work for us. We are able to do all of this, not because of our own skills or worth, but because God was willing to take on all hardship for us and raise us up in the same way Christ was raised. Every calendar year, every Church year, every aspect of life is wrapped in this ebb and flow, this rise and fall.

Today, we stand seven days from Palm Sunday, the height of Jesus’s acceptance before he was rejected and crucified. If next week brings us a high, then today we are allowed to see a low. Christ stands before his disciples and has something of a crisis as he hears that people are interested in hearing him speak. It seems strange, that Jesus should have this moment of realizing his death is near and expressing how troubled he is just because several men are asking to hear him speak, but I think there’s more to it than that, there almost always is.

The passage tells us a few things in quick succession that set the stage. Several “Greeks,” come to Phillip and ask to speak with Jesus. These are not Greek speaking Jews, there’s a different word to describe them, these are Greek God-fearers – Gentiles that worship the God of Israel.[1] They go to Phillip, who is named as a disciple from Bethsaida, a town relatively south in Galilee, but far away from central Judea. It was a place where people spoke Greek as much as they did Aramaic. They find Philip, perhaps because he was speaking Greek, and ask if he can take them to see Jesus. Philip decides to check before he does so, and so finds Andrew, and only after the two of them discuss the matter do they go on to Jesus. Jesus hears that the Greeks are looking for him and then he has the chilling reaction we read about here.

The sudden arrival of Gentiles into the story means that Jesus has succeeded in his mission of reaching the people of Judah. The selective Gentile believers here and there were just a side-affect of this outreach, but now Jesus has become known beyond his own people in a much bigger way. The era of Christ’s ministry to Judah was ending and soon his universal, resurrected ministry was going to begin. The resurrection of Christ requires something before it can happen though, and that is death. Now Christ’s time had come to free all humanity from Sin, now he was to destroy death and chase out Satan from his throne, now was the time for him to die.

We are given clues throughout Jesus’s ministry that one of the things that was given up when he took on humanity was the ability to see exactly how the future was written. Though not losing Godhood, Jesus lost many of its benefits in becoming human. There is an ability then for Jesus to be surprised, to react to something as it happens, and in this case, to have a sudden realization. Christ always knew his journey ended in a cross, but in this moment, when this message comes to him, the sudden weight of what is to come overtakes him. Jesus is no longer composed, not even especially holy, he speaks frankly to his disciples.

“I am so worried. What should I even do, ask for help? That’s not what I’m here for… I came to do this… but does that make it easier… Father, glorify your name.” A voice booms from the Heavens, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it.” The crowd thinks an angel has spoken to comfort Jesus, but Jesus responds differently, and I won’t modernize his response because the language cuts deep, “Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself”

Jesus was speeding toward the hardest day of his life, the day he would die a miserable death. Facing the realization of how inescapable that fate was and how close it had become, Jesus could not be comforted. A voice came from the Heavens, but not for him. His disciples would spend days with him, doing their best to lessen his pain, but Jesus moved forward intentionally, not yielding in his focus. He was worried, he was afraid, and yet he kept going because he knew what he had to do. Jesus was going to bring all people together and Jesus was going to do it by giving his life for everyone.

There is a deep sadness in this passage, but as we make the move toward Easter, I hope we can also see that there is a strange hope to it as well. Jesus unflinchingly walked toward Death, not just because he was strong – but because it was that important that he completed the work ahead of him. Jesus was afraid, Jesus wanted anything but what was set ahead of him, and yet he was willing to keep moving. Why? For us.

The voice of God thundered from Heaven, not to comfort Jesus – he knew that God was going to follow through even in this dark moment – that voice was for us who hear it even today. Christ lived a life of sacrifice, a life meant to bring life to others, and Christ did so despite fear and anxiety and a strong desire to avoid this awful pain.

If you ever feel like you cannot face what lies ahead of you, know that Jesus had that moment too. If you are ever deeply concerned, know that Jesus was too. Still, in the midst of all our worry and our fear, remember what Christ faced all his trouble for. He faced this to free us from needing to fear, from needing to face troubles alone or without hope. Christ suffered so that the judgment of the world would be settled, so that evil would lose its claim over our lives, and so that our faith would be confirmed in our consolation. Take heart, for Christ has overcome the world. – Amen

[1] The word for “Greek,” is “Ἕλλην,” (Hellen,) while the word for “Greek Jew,” is “Ἑλληνιστής” (Hellenistes.)

Sermon 03/10/2024 – Redemp(tion)

/ John Langenstein / Leave a comment

Ephesians 2:1-10

You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient.

All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, doing the will of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else, but God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we may walk in them.

Sermon Text

 Life is full. It is full of work that needs to be done and worries that we can have. It is full of those moments we could just sing and the moments where all we want to do is cry. Wherever we go, whatever we do, we are always stepping into a deep river of things. They can become overwhelming, demanding everything of us at every moment. It is hard to take a rest, to find any place of security in the great sea of experience that we all struggle through. Despite that, rest is essential, and finding a foundation we can rest upon is the only way we can really find any peace.

Sometimes it can feel like a marvel, as we walk through the concrete surroundings that defines so much of our life, that plants grow up in the midst of the cracks between the cement. However, for the right kind of plant, that concrete is an ideal place. Unlikely to wash away or break, it shield their roots from their elements. Meanwhile, that little stem poking out and spreading leaves and flowers is able to take in all the sunlight and water and air it needs. Is there anything especially shocking that a well rooted, protected plant can thrive? The anchor need not be anything extravagant as long as there is something for it to grab onto.

In our own lives, as people of faith, there is a strange foundation on which Christ asks us to find rest in. We sing, of course, of Leaning on the Everlasting Arms, we trust in Christ’s transformative Spirit, but that is not the image that scripture conjures again and again to give us a foundation for our ability to rest. No, I would say that those are the natural conclusions of scriptures mantra regarding why we should not worry or wrap ourselves up in fear. Strangely enough, when scripture asks us to be at peace it is almost always in the context of our own limitedness. Christ bids us come and rest  because we are all sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God, and we mortal beings who are here today and gone tomorrow.

Why is that comforting? How can we look to our short time on Earth and sign in relief instead of anxiety? Likewise, what in the world does my sinful foundation have to do with my future hope of redemption? Why are we constantly reminded of these seeming shortcomings when scripture is trying to inspire us to something better?

There is a contradiction in our lives as people of faith. We are able to be confident in what we do, not because we are especially holy or talented or good, but precisely because we are not the best at everything we set out to do. While God gives us gifts and talents – God does not make those talents perfect nor does God give us every possible talent. There are blind spots and weaknesses that we all face and those are common to all people. Despite appearances, the most sainted person in a Church community has their fair share of failings and the person who is seen as an outcast or a troublemaker, probably has something God gave them that they either do or could excel at.

Let me provide myself as an example. I was an angry child. My family was not good at expressing their feelings, and so I learned from them that shouting was a good way to get things across. That was a limitation of my flesh, imposed partly by innate predispositions in my soul and as a product of my raising. However, when I was fully aware of my limitations, I asked God and others for help, and suddenly I was not working toward being a calmer person alone. I had God on my side, I had people willing to understand my journey. Now, only two things ever make me snap at people regularly – anytime I have to put together furniture and sudden and very taxing problems.

The foundational truth of our limited nature is build upon a larger truth, namely that God is not limited. Though we can easily see scriptures description of us as having hearts prone to sin, bodies that rebel against God’s law, and minds that just don’t get it as a reason to beat ourselves up – to fall down spiraling rabbit holes of self-hatred – God means us to see this as a leveling statement. We are all of us sinners, yes, but we are all of us loved by a God who went from Heaven to Earth, Earth to the Grave, and all the way back again just so we could had a chance to break from all that trouble.

Ever wonder why God forgives us our sins, long before we get any better at not sinning? Why we can come back to God when we fail and trust we will be given another chance? It is not because God wants to write as many blank checks for salvation as God can. No, instead it is because God earnestly believes that the foundational thing shared by all humans is our mortality, and the greatest gift God can give us is hope for a second chance.[1] It can seem paradoxical that we are freed and lifted up by acknowledging our weakness, but the foundation of our faith is that while we are weak God is strong. Again, not so we develop complexes about how awful we are, but so that in every good things we do and every good habit we develop, we can see God’s Spirit at work,

I said at the outset that scripture often gives us our own human failing as the foundation of our hope in what Christ did. I say that intentionally because the reality of my shortcomings is often more obvious to me than anything God has done. I know I will die and I know that I sin. Those two things I trust will always lurk in my mind. If I know that is true about me, and scripture tells me that I am not alone, but that all people have this same struggle, I can look around and see that it is true. No wonder then, that I feel hopeful when scripture tells me that God is greater than either death or Sin. That I can grow to become better, and enjoy more of this life, because God is not done with me or with humanity.

I grew up in a church that wanted us to be ashamed a lot. Girls were always told that they were tempting boys, boys were always told that they were neglecting God for sports. If we did anything commendable, anything good, we were also reprimanded with the idea that even our best work was like dirty rags to God. It was not an environment that inspired hope. I believe it is because the youth minister I had, had never understood what we talked about this morning. God does not hold sin and death over our heads, God breaks the chains of sin and death. We bring the reality of sin and death with us wherever we are, God simply points to it, holds out a key, and asks if we would like to be free.

Free from the need to chase after empty things that do not comfort us. Free from the need to fight each other over crumbs of attention. Free from the need to sin and sin again, just for an inkling of something meaningful. God points to our sin, not to send us down into a bog of self-hatred, but to acknowledge what we already know. We are lost and weighed down and we need help to get out. We are offered redemption and we are given it freely. My hope is built upon Christ and all that he has done, and when I need inspiration to keep moving toward his ideal, oddly enough it helps for me to take a moment and acknowledge first how frail I am.

Christ did not sin, so he did not have these problems I have. Yet, he lived a life just like mine. If I follow his example, I may just be able to live a fraction of the life Christ lived. Yet, I am limited, I could not do it alone. Thanks be to God, that when we remember our sin, we as people of faith are not called to be lost in it. We mourn the harm we have caused, we make up for the damage we have inflicted upon others, but we do not sit and wallow in it. When we see our Sin for what it is, it naturally follows that we see how much bigger Christ is than it, and somehow we can grow, we can be redeemed, as we once never could have dreamt. – Amen

[1] This is discussed at length in Barbara Brown Taylor’s Speaking of Sin.