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Weekly audio of sermons preached at Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana

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September 27, 2026

Almost Who I Am

Almost Who I Am Pastor Cogan Download Matthew 21:23-32 When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why, then, did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd, for all regard John as a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things. “What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not,’ but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same, and he answered, ‘I go, sir,’ but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him, and even after you saw it you did not change your minds and believe him. Back in February, one of my favorite artists, David Whimbish, released a song called Almost Who I Am. It’s been on repeat in my car since. The chorus goes, “Well if you used to know me, I am sorry. I have not been myself for most of my life. Don’t worry. You're not crazy. I’m almost who I am but still not quite.” (warning - if you have children there are a few choice words so perhaps the car ride home is not the best time to listen to it.) Sometimes there are lyrics that ring like gospel truth from the moment you hear them. Such was this song for me. If you used to know, I am sorry. I have not been myself for most of my life. If you knew a 10 year old Cogan, you would have known a talkative, husky (at least according to my pant size), boy who loved football and thought he’d never move away from home. At 16, you would have known a teen who longed to be popular and well liked, who held strong beliefs about folks who are queer, and believed racism was a thing of the past. At 22, all sorts of those beliefs had changed, for the better I believe. I got married, said I’d never have a dog, and, not yet having any kids of my own, was an expert on parenting. At 32, I stand before quite different than all of my previous selves, shaped by a past of bad decisions, wrong beliefs, and the harm I’ve done and had done to me. If you used to know me, I am sorry. I have not been myself for most of my life. And I have to believe I am not the only one who feels like that in this life; like you have never been quite the person you’d hoped you would be. Perhaps that is what Jesus is getting at in this deceptively simple parable about two brothers. A father tells his first son, go and work in the vineyard. The first son replied "No, I am not doing that” and later changed his mind. The father, not knowing that his first son would change his mind, goes to his second son and asks the same thing. The second son said, “yes, I’ll go.” But he didn’t. It is easy to hear this story as a simple choice between two options. You are either the second sons, which represents the religious leaders. They believed they were doing God’s will in what they taught and how they lived. But then John the baptist and Jesus came and proclaimed something new, and they rejected it and them, and chose not to follow where God was leading. In other words,they knew how to say yes to God, but they never went into the vineyard. Others though, namely tax collectors and prostitutes, the worst sinners of the day, grabbed ahold of it with all they had. The invitation for us then seems simple: be like the first son. Repent! Don’t just talk about faith; go work in the vineyard. But I don’t believe this parable comes down to, “Which son will you be?” The hard truth is that we are both. We are the second son whenever our confession doesn’t live up to our discipleship. We say yes to God all the time. We confess our sins, say we’ll repent, and promise to love our neighbors. We talk about welcome and service, justice and forgiveness. We call ourselves Partners in Mission at Cross of Grace. That is a whole lot of yes to God. And inevitably, we don’t always go into the vineyard. So let’s not be too quick to judge the chief priests and elders. They aren’t obvious villains. They are religious people who know how to say yes to God. Sound familiar? But thank God we are also the first son. We’ve said no in a thousand ways. We’ve been selfish. We’ve hurt others and ourselves. We’ve failed to become the parents, spouses, friends, Christian, and church we imagined ourselves becoming. There are things you believed, that we believed, twenty years ago that make us cringe now. Things we’ve said that we wish we would have swallowed. Things we’ve done that cannot be undone. “If you used to know me, I am sorry. I have not been myself for most of my life.” There is confession there. Grace does not take all that away. It happened. It was you. And yet, “afterward he changed his mind and went.” Just like the first son, our no was true, but it wasn’t final. Our past happened, but it doesn’t dictate our future. “Don’t worry. You’re not crazy. I’m almost who I am.” In other words, I am still becoming. The grace in the parable is that the first son’s “no” didn’t preclude him from working in the vineyard. The future was still open. And perhaps the same is true for the second son. Jesus says the tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom “ahead of you”; not instead of you. Their failure need not be final either. Grace is the promise that neither our first answers nor our failures are the final word. Rather God is always at work in us. Maybe you are sitting here as someone who has more life behind you than in front of you. You’re thinking, “Pastor I am 86. My future is not open and it is too late to repair all my no’s.” Sounding an awful lot like David Whimbish, Luther says, “This life therefore is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness; not health, but healing; not being, but becoming; We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it. The process is not yet finished, but it is going on. This is not the end, but it is the road.” Our becoming isn’t finished before death. The Christian promise isn’t merely that you still have time to become a somewhat better version of yourself before you die. Rather, it is after this life, God will finish what grace has begun and we will be made new, complete; the person God intended for you to be. But in this life, you are almost who you are, but still not quite. And to me that is good news. Because like David Whimbish sings, I’m afraid that I am the mistake that I’ve made. I want to change, or really be changed. I want to be a different person than who I have been, than who I am today. Maybe that's true for you, too. Jesus tells me, tells us, that by the grace of God, our future is open. The problem is not that we have messed up in the past. The problem is believing your past must determine your future. This parable and its teaching isn’t about being the religious leaders or the sinners, the second son or the first. It’s announcing the terrifying and wonderful reality that God is still at work in us. We are not yet who we will be. Sometimes we can see it happening. A no becomes a yes. We meet people who change us. The tight grip on a conviction we held so tight begins to loosen. We apologize. We forgive. We finally walk into the vineyard. And sometimes the work remains painfully unfinished. There are noes we will never have time to repair and wounds we cannot heal. But even then, God is not finished. Death does not close the future God has opened. In the resurrection we will finally become who God has been making us to be all along. In this life, though, I’m almost who I am, but never quite. Amen.

September 20, 2026

A History of Grace

A History of Grace Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 20:1-16 [Jesus said,] “The kingdom of heaven is like a laborer who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with them for the usual daily wage, he sent them out into the vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he found others standing idle in the marketplace and he said to them, ‘You also go into my vineyard and I will pay you what is right.’ So they went. When he went out about noon and again about 3 o’clock, he did the same. When he went out at 5 o’clock, he found others still standing around. He said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also, go out and work in the vineyard.’ When evening came, the landowner said to his manager, ‘Call in the workers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and going to the first.’ When those who were hired at 5 o’clock came in, they received the usual daily wage. When those who were hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but instead they also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner saying, ‘These last have worked only one hour and yet you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ The landowner said to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to the last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ So, the last will be first and the first will be last.” I’ve had the occasion to talk about Cross of Grace’s history a few different times in the last several weeks – particularly where our earliest days as a new, “mission” congregation are concerned. And it’s all been related to our latest expansion project and because of the 25th anniversary we’ve been celebrating over the course of this past year or so. I’ve talked about the building with our architects and contractors, of course. I’ve had a recent conversation with someone from our synod, who’s new to the ministry, about mission development and what it takes to start a new congregation. And I shared some of all of that with folks in our most recent CrossRoads class – as I always do – for people who want to learn more about where we come from, and about how and why we do what we do, as a family of faith. So it all came to mind again when I started to consider this familiar parable about “the workers in the vineyard.” The story goes, as many of you know, that I was called as a Pastor and Mission Developer, technically, to serve as an associate at Servants of Christ Lutheran Church, up in the Oaklandon/Geist neck of the woods, in Indianapolis, but that all of my work and ministry took place here in New Palestine. I like to tell about how a handful of faithful, committed, brave Lutheran-flavored Christians were assembled from a few area Lutheran congregations, like Servants of Christ, and St. James, in Greenfield, Gethsemane on the east side, and Bethany on the south side, all to serve as seeds for this fledgling idea of a new congregation. And I like to tell about how Servants of Christ paid my salary and many of our General Fund expenses for the first three years of our life together. And about how Servants of Christ purchased the land we’re sitting on and then signed over the title to all 10.3 acres of it, free and clear, as a gift. And I like to explain that all of that spiritual capital and financial support were a big part of why we were able to build our first building … and add to it as soon and as often as we have … and continue to grow in ways far more important that square footage, in just these past 25 years. See, for people who know anything about new church start-ups and mission developments in our denomination, what we’ve been able to do in a relatively short period of time at Cross of Grace – namely to build and grow and build and grow and give generously and thrive along the way – usually takes the average mission congregation much, much longer in this day and age. Typically a pastor/developer shows up in a mission field like New Palestine and spends 6 months to a year just gathering people who might want to be part of a new congregation. Typically, they don’t start worshipping for another 9 months or so, until they’ve been together for meetings and for Bible studies and for other ways of getting to know each other, first. Typically, they have to spend all sorts of time and energy – and spiritual and financial resources – raising money and saving money; finding land and paying for it; or buying land back from the larger Church who owned it in the first place. Typically, all of that needs to be done – and can take years – long before they can even think about designing and building a first facility for worship, learning, and service. And typically, the first building a mission congregation builds doesn’t look anything like what we were able to build – which was basically the space we’re sitting in that has sustained us and made room for us, these past 25 years – at least as far as worship is concerned. First facilities – per the expectations and demands of the larger church – are usually a lot smaller and can’t foster the kind of ministry – or welcome – that we’ve been blessed to share, thanks to the head-start and help we received from our friends at Servants of Christ. And typically, because of all of that work and waiting, pastors and mission developers for new congregations don’t last as pastors of their congregations for more than 18 months after they move into their first building, or complete a major building project – let alone three. Honestly – and sadly – it’s just too much of a tiring, conflicted, stressful journey to bear. Well, this morning’s parable had me thinking about all of this, because when I tell the story of Cross of Grace to others in the Church – especially when I tell it to other Pastors and Mission Developers who know something about all I just described – I get a little self-conscious and I used to even feel a bit guilty about the way we’ve come to be. Having come here straight out of seminary – green as green can be – I wondered if they looked at me like I was like one of those workers who showed up at 5 o’clock, worked for a shorter part of the day, and reaped the same reward my friends and colleagues had been dreaming about and working for since very early in the proverbial morning. But to feel guilty or self-conscious about any of this is to deny the very profound experience of grace that has blessed my life – and ours together – from the very beginning. See, the plan for starting new congregations where the larger Church is concerned is what it is and I understand why it has to be that way in many instances. The larger church wants congregations to establish themselves as viable. They want to see trends of financial income and commitments. The larger church needs to be paid back for the land and the resources they provide, so that they can provide those resources for others down the line. The larger church needs to see new, growing communities of Christian workers out there in the vineyard punching a clock and earning their keep and proving themselves. Even the Church, in instances like this, can’t act like God can act – as graciously as Jesus tells us God acts – in this morning’s parable. And at the risk of tooting our own proverbial horn, I think it’s fair to say that we have been as faithful and as successful – if not more faithful and more successful in our ministry together – because we keep telling this story and working to honor the gracious abundance that has been shared with us over the years. And, while the larger Church has all those good reasons and real needs for starting congregations the way they do, I can’t help but wonder if all those rules and regulations; all those hoops and hurtles; all those tiresome timelines and tedious ways do everything but foster generosity, gratitude and grace – which I happen to think are our greatest assets at Cross of Grace, and the reason we continue to do God’s work well and faithfully around here. And I hope and pray our experience as a congregation impacts and translates into the way we live as individuals – and out there in the world – too. Because if each of us takes a minute, I suspect we can all think of someone or some ways that we have been blessed with a gracious advantage in our lives. I suspect most of us can point to someone who helped us when we didn’t deserve it; gave us a leg-up, encouraged us, supported us, pushed us; loved us, just because. And, of course, by virtue of the circumstances of our birth – most of us as working or middle class white people in this country we call home – are graced with privilege so many others in the world can’t comprehend. It’s why I have to think those laborers in the vineyard – the ones who showed up at 5 o’clock in the afternoon and received the full day’s wage – were so surprised and grateful that they came back to work for that landowner again. I’d like to think they showed up early the next morning, instead of hanging around in the marketplace all day. I’d like to think they worked hard for their boss, and that they probably brought along some friends to help, too; to experience this abundance I’m sure they could hardly believe themselves. And I’d like to think that landowner’s simple grace and surprising generosity fostered their own. So much of that is why I work as hard as I do around here – because I’m still surprised and I remain grateful for what was and has first been given to us for the sake of this ministry we share. It’s why I hope we are all inspired to give generously to what we’re up to around here – Building Funds, General Funds, and every other chance we have to share our resources with the world around us. It’s why I hope we’re always looking for ways to get involved in this ministry, by serving on ministry teams, by studying Scripture, and by getting our hands dirty for the sake of the kingdom. It’s why I hope, whether you’ve been here for 5 minutes or for 25 years, you’re compelled by the shear blessing of God’s grace that built and lives and moves and breathes in this place, and that you’re moved to celebrate and share that however you can manage. Because – truth be told – the work of starting a church and being faithful and growing a congregation and celebrating 25 years of it all – isn’t any less work, if you’re doing it well, no matter how much help you’ve received along the way, or how recently you’ve arrived to the party. My hope is that, because the grace we’ve received from the beginning of our life together is so abundantly clear … and because of the grace that belongs to us all in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus … we’ll continue to be clear and diligent and faithful and generous, in returning the favor to as many people and in as many ways as we can – with no strings attached – as we go. Amen

September 13, 2026

Dolly, Joseph, and Jesus

Dolly, Joseph, and Jesus Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 18:21-35 Then Peter came to Jesus and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often must I forgive – as many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but I tell you seventy-seven times.” “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought before him. When he couldn’t pay, the king ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all of his possessions, and payment to be made. But the slave fell down before him and pleaded, ‘Have patience with me and I’ll pay you everything.’ Out of pity for him, the king released him and forgave him his entire debt. “But that same slave, when he went out, came across a fellow slave who owed him one hundred denarii. Seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe!’ When he could not pay, he knelt down before him and said, ‘Have patience with me and I will pay you.’ But the first slave refused and he went and had him thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and they went and told the king everything that had taken place. “The king summoned the first slave and said to him, ‘You wicked slave!’ I forgave you all of that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave the way I had mercy on you?’ Then, in anger, he handed him over to be tortured until he could pay his entire debt. So, my heavenly father will also do to every one of you unless you forgive your brother and your sister from your heart.” It’s been a few weeks since we lost Saint Dolly. I knew there would be an occasion where her death – and her life – and her Christian witness – would make its way into something around here. She was such an example of what faithful, generous, Christ-likeness looks like in the world, after all. But I’m not going to talk about her generosity – the million dollars she donated to jumpstart the development of the COVID vaccine during the pandemic; the gazillion books her “Imagination Library” has shared with kids around the world; the millions of dollars she gave to hurricane, flood, and wildfire victims in her home state and beyond. That is all very impressive, for sure. But for someone with Dolly Parton kind of money none of that is as impressive as what caught my attention about her capacity to forgive, just as generously. If you know anything about her story – or if you happened upon any of the many tributes and reflections about the trajectory of her career, in the last few weeks, since her death – you likely know something about her early days with Porter Wagoner. Porter Wagoner – that goofy looking dude of a country singer-songwriter. He was 20 years older than Dolly and had his own TV show. He gets credit for discovering Dolly Parton and for giving her her big television debut as a regular on “The Porter Wagoner Show.” She was just 21 years old, at the time, and not so far removed from the hills and hollers of Sevierville, TN. Dolly lived in Porter’s shadow – and under his thumb – for seven years on his show. As her boss and producer and mentor he apparently controlled and dismissed her creativity so that, in 1974, Dolly told him she wanted to leave the show, break out on her own, and have more creative freedom to do her own thing. When Wagoner resisted the idea, Dolly went home, wrote the masterpiece that is “I Will Always Love You,” sang it to him the next day, and let him know she would be leaving, whether he wanted her to go, or not. Wagoner knew what he’d lost, of course, and held a grudge that had him speaking ill of Dolly thereafter until, when his own career fell apart and his finances took a dump, he sued Dolly – five years after the fact – for $3,000,000, in 1979, for breach of contract. (That’s about $14,000,000 in today’s money.) Dolly kept a lot of that quiet and on the down-low and they ultimately settled out of court. Several more years later – in spite of all of that – when Dolly Parton learned that Porter Wagoner was in such dire financial straits that he had to sell the publishing rights to his own music, she secretly, quietly, on the down-low again, bought his entire catalogue of music and gave the rights to it all back to him as a gift. In other words, Dolly pulled a Joseph. If you don’t know or remember the details of that story, which we just heard a little piece of this morning, Joseph was one of 12 brothers. When their dad, Jacob, made it clear that Joseph was his favorite, showering him with praise and special treatment and dressing him like Dolly Parton in that coat of many colors, the other brothers didn’t like it. They conspired to kill Joseph, but ended up selling him to some human traffickers, instead, and then faked his death, letting their dad believe their little brother was killed by some kind of wild animal. Like Dolly, though, Joseph made it big. He landed in the house and in the favor of Pharaoh – interpreting dreams like Dolly wrote songs – until he became one of the most influential men in all of Egypt. So that, years later, when famine and dire financial straits fell upon his family back home and his lying, traitorous brothers showed up looking for rescue and relief from Pharoah’s reserves in Egypt, Joseph had a choice to make: hold a grudge and send them packing? Or give them what they wanted and needed, whether they deserved it or not? Like Dolly, Joseph chose the latter and, in some quiet, sly, down-low ways of his own, Joseph helped his brothers – welcoming them with open arms and setting them up with some new land on which their family – his family – could survive, live, and thrive as a people. I can’t be sure, because I’ve never had Dolly Parton dollars or access to the unlimited funds of the Pharaoh, but I have a hunch that the harder, more generous, sacrificial, faithful part of the reconciliation offered up by these two well-dressed, well-heeled, giants of faith we have in Dolly and Joseph, comes NOT in the grand total of the financial help they offered … but in the selfless, sacrificial, humble, ego-free, no-strings-attached, utter grace of their forgiveness. They did it, not because they had to … or because they didn’t have plenty of reason to do the opposite … (in this era of Taylor Swift style – paybacks are Hell sort of break-up songs – it’s worth noting that even Dolly’s “break up” song to Porter Wagoner was full of humility, gratitude, and love). And Dolly did it – forgave him and helped him and reconciled with him – she apparently said, because she didn’t want to live her life bearing the burden of that broken relationship. Joseph did it – forgave and helped and reconciled with his brothers – because he could see the bigger picture of what God was up to in his life and for the sake of the world. Only God could have turned Joseph’s great loss and suffering into good for his family … and only if Joseph had played along by forgiving them like he did. All of which is the way of Jesus, just the same. And it’s what he’s talking about this morning with this parable – remember, this is a parable – nothing more and nothing less – about the “unforgiving servant.” Jesus tells that story about this poor guy who couldn’t share, with his friend, the same kind of forgiveness he’d received – and then ends up being tortured because of it. Now, I don’t think we need to see that as some kind of cosmic threat or warning about the likelihood of our own suffering when we die for all the ways we didn’t forgive on this side of heaven. The “kingdom of heaven” Jesus is describing here has already broken into our midst in Jesus, remember. The kingdom of heaven about which Jesus teaches is alive and well and among us, just as much as it is up there and out there and beyond the grave. So, when Jesus says, “the kingdom of heaven is like…” what if Jesus is teaching us about and calling us to something Dolly and Joseph knew and practiced: that living – on this side of heaven – in a state of unforgiveness … carrying – in this life – the weight of a grudge … shouldering – daily – the burden of resentment for someone else’s sins against you, is its own kind of torture; it’s own kind of hell; it’s own kind of suffering – on this side of heaven; in this life; right where we live; right here and now? And what if Jesus’ point – what if his promise – is that God doesn’t want that for any of us. In other words, forgiveness isn’t an entirely benevolent act – and that’s okay. Yes, to forgive another is a wonderful gift to give someone else, but it’s something we do for ourselves, too. It may mean mending a relationship or it may mean moving on from one with grace. It may mean accepting someone’s apology and it may mean accepting that someone will never apologize and mean it. It may mean healing a hurt from the past or it may mean letting the past be the past and moving on. It may mean setting the record straight or it may mean setting the score card aside – or on fire – and starting from zero. Whatever the case, we are invited to forgive because God doesn’t want us to live in bondage. We forgive because grudges and memories of sin are heavy burdens to carry around. We forgive because we know it’s been done for us in more ways than we can count. And we forgive because to refuse it is to refuse God’s place and power in our lives. Because it all starts with God’s grace – made known in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus – promising, as God does, that “I will always love you.” Because of that truth – because of that promise kept, in Jesus – because of that mercy made real – because of that burden lifted – because of our Sin, forgiven – we can do the same for others and for the sake of the world. And when we do, we set ourselves free along the way, just the same. Amen

August 30, 2026

Why? Why? Why?

Why? Why? Why? Pastor Cogan Matthew 16:21-28 From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me, for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life? “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” I know I have said it, but I can’t say it enough. From all of my family, thank you for the generous gift of time you gave to us for my paternity leave. It was wonderful. I thought it might be helpful to share a little bit about what our days were like. Yes, there were (and are) the diaper blow outs, the endless piles of laundry, the constant “Clive stop touching her”, and coffee, lots of coffee. But especially in those first few weeks, there would come a point nearly each day when Clive had had enough of being inside. It might have been the running laps around the kitchen or chucking toys down the stairs, but something would tell us he needed to go outside. And since I am not a source of milk, He and I would go for walks, or adventures, as we call them. There is this little path in our neighborhood that leads to a small pond behind some houses. It’s got tall grasses and wildflowers all around, with tall trees hovering above. I would tell him we were searching for turtles, knowing full well we wouldn’t see one. That wasn’t the point. We would walk, look around, but mostly Clive would ask questions. Dad, why is that flower yellow? Why is there water here? Why are the clouds gray and not white? Why is uncle Chad taller than you? Admittedly, I was more than a little tired on some of our walks and did not entertain this game well. On my better days though, I would do my best to answer. But when you get five or six why’s deep on any one question, you’ve got to be a wildlife biologist, an astrophysicist, or a mechanic to give the right answer. For example: why does it rain? So that things grow. Why? Because most things need water and sunlight to grow. Why? At this point I remember something called photosynthesis, but that’s about all and we are only three whys in. And lest you think I am exaggerating on the number of why’s Clive asks, one study from the University of Michigan found that on average, a 3 to 5 year old asks 107 questions a day! A day! Most of them being “why?”. I researched a little bit more on why Clive asked why so much and there are a few reasons. First, at age three kids have an explosion of neuron connections happening in their brain, more than three times that of an adult. Second, it helped me to know that kids ask lots of questions with someone they trust. They are thinking, “this person is helping me figure out the world”. And finally, kids aren’t seeking attention with the repeated why. Instead, they are just unsatisfied with the answers, which means Clive is unsatisfied with me most of the time. Sadly, this barrage of questioning doesn't last forever. Tight at the time kids start school, ironically the questions start slowing down. By halfway through elementary school, they nearly stop altogether, perhaps because in both our schools and our society we’ve come to value correct answers much more than good questions. In reading the gospel this week, I can’t help but wonder how this conversation between Jesus and Peter would have gone had Peter responded with a question. I wonder even more how Jesus would have answered… Instead, Peter thinks he has the right answer again. Just last week, Jesus praised him for his answer to the question who Jesus was. “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God”, Peter said. And he was rewarded with a title, the Rock, and keys to the kingdom. Yet, today we see Peter had the right answer, but the wrong understanding of what that meant. For him and most of the Jewish community, the Messiah would be like David and Moses wrapped into one, but even greater. A military leader who would overthrow Rome and lead the Jewish people out of oppression and into a new kingdom. So when Jesus says that he must suffer and be killed by the people Peter thought he came to defeat, Peter can’t help but think he is right and Jesus is wrong. Can you imagine how the conversation would have gone had Peter simply responded why? Why must you suffer and be killed? Why must you be raised on the third day? Throughout the gospels, Jesus never scolds the disciples or others for asking questions. Think of Nicodemus and all his questions or the disciples wanting an explanation as to why Jesus taught in parables. Questions don’t frustrate Jesus. Insistence that someone has the right answer, or the right theology, does… Especially when that right answer or theology harms someone else.So if Jesus welcomes our questions, why are we so hesitant to pose them? Maybe because we are afraid of what our questions will lead to or we’ve been told we shouldn’t. Like our schools and society, our churches and denominations place a premium on having the right answers or believing the right thing. And it has harmed people, especially women and our gay and queer siblings. My hope is that this community is a place where we create space for and encourage good questions. As we start this new program year, there will be many opportunities to learn together. My prayer is that not only will you commit to coming to one of them: Wired Word, Giving the Sense, Graceful Parenting, or others, but that while you are in them you are not afraid to ask questions of your neighbor, your pastors, your faith, and the holy words of the Word. When we do that, we’ll make new connections and gain deeper understanding about each other and our God. We will grow in trust, helping one another figure out our faith and the world around us. We will also be, and likely have already been, unsatisfied with some answers you get: from us, from popular theology, or from your past church experience. And that’s okay! One of the best pieces of advice I read about Clive’s constant questioning is that he's likely unsatisfied with my answers because they are causal, not functional. In other words, I am explaining what causes something and not its function. He asks why the flower is yellow and I say because of the pigment in its petals. That is useless to Clive. But if I say, so that bees and butterflies can find it, now we’ve got something. Preschoolers want an answer that is functional, that explains what something does, not just what it means. And that’s beautiful, it’s also very Lutheran. If you have asked “Why did Jesus have to die?” and someone responded with “because that was God’s plan” or “because of sin”, that’s a causal answer likely leading to many more whys. I am much more interested in a functional answer of why Jesus died and was raised. That answer is perhaps more simple, but no less profound. Jesus died and was raised for you, and for me and for the whole world, so that we might receive grace and forgiveness here and now, and that all creation will one day be raised to new life, just as Jesus was. That’s why. Until then, ask all the questions you can about this faith we share, about this God we worship, and about this grace we’ve received. It will help us learn together, trust each other more, and above all, get a deeper understanding of this Jesus we follow. We might not be satisfied with all the answers we get, but I bet one day we will be. Amen

August 23, 2026

Spiritual Gifts and The Body of Christ

Spiritual Gifts and The Body of Christ Dr. Joelle Hathaway Our own Dr. Joelle Hathaway, Assistant Professor of Theological Studies at Bethany Theological Seminary, joined us as our last guest preacher for the summer. It’s been good to hear new voices and to share different perspectives, like hers, while Pastor Cogan was away for his family leave the last few months.

August 16, 2026

A Jerk Like Jesus

A Jerk Like Jesus Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 15:21-28 Jesus left that place and went to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then, a Canaanite woman from that region came to him and cried out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon.” Jesus didn’t answer her at all. His disciples said to him, “Send her away from here. She keeps shouting after us.” Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But the woman came, and kneeling before him, said, “Lord, help me.” And Jesus replied, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” The woman replied, “Yes, Lord. But even dogs get the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” Jesus said, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed, instantly. I make it a point not to compare myself to Jesus – for so many reasons. But I found myself doing just that this week when I sat down to wrestle with this difficult Gospel reading. This one hit differently, for a change, and not in a good way. What I mean is, like we just heard from Jesus, I was sort of a jerk to a couple of people who needed my help this week. I wasn’t as mean as Jesus, honestly – I didn’t call anyone a “dog” – but I was kind of a jerk, nonetheless. But first, I’d rather talk about talk about Jesus. He and the disciples are spreading the Word, their working miracles, their feeding, healing, and teaching. I’m sure they’re still talking about how Peter walked on water, which we heard about last week. And then along comes this woman – a Canaanite woman; a Gentile woman in the land of Gentiles; and she wants to talk to Jesus. She wants his mercy and his blessing and his healing for her sick daughter and she has the nerve to ask him for it. I say “nerve” because she was a Gentile, a Canaanite. She was not a Jew, like Jesus and his disciples. She was NOT one of the “lost sheep of the house of Israel,” as Jesus puts it. And because of that, she wasn’t on his agenda or in his plans or on his list of priorities. Even though they were in her neck of the woods – the region of Tyre and Sidon – neither Jesus nor his disciples wanted anything to do with her. “Send her away,” the disciples say, “she keeps shouting after us.” “Lose her before she makes a scene.” And Jesus tries to brush her off, himself: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” “I really am only here for the Jews. Not for Gentiles. Not for Canaanites. Not for the likes of her.” But she doesn’t give up. She keeps after him. She persists, like any good mother would, who really wanted help for her sick child. And, even after hearing all of this, she kneels before Jesus, utterly humbling herself, and she begs him … simply … “Lord, help me.” And it gets worse before it gets better. If there’s any doubt that Jesus didn’t want anything to do with this lady, listen when he says, “It’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” That is as bad as it sounds. He compares her to a dog – unworthy of receiving the same blessings he came to share with his fellow Jews; with “the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” *** Now, a little sidebar here. I have preached and taught about this text several times over the years and usually take the same tack … to make it about race, for instance; or ministry to the “other,” for example; or about doing away with the social and cultural divisions that separate people from each other – like how Jesus and his disciples saw themselves as separate from – maybe better than – that Canaanite woman. I like to talk about how even Jesus was influenced by his culture and community and about how even he had to learn and be persuaded to see God’s grace as deeper and wider and more all-encompassing than he was first inclined. And I think that is quite a compelling lesson to be learned here. But I’ve been there and done that – as far as sermons go – so this time around it hit differently, as I said. *** Whatever it was that made Jesus rebuff, dismiss, and ignore the needs of this woman, this is hard to hear because either he meant it, which can’t be good. Or because he was messing with her to test the fortitude of her faithfulness, which isn’t great, either. Or maybe, like me this week, Jesus was just tired and feeling rushed and put upon and taken for granted by people who needed their emergency to become his emergency at a time when he just didn’t feel like he had it in him. (For me it was phone calls and requests from some folks outside of the congregation – none of you, in other words. One was from a guy who needed help at the food pantry – NOW; another was someone looking for marriage counseling; and another was a woman who had a sick child, was out of work following surgery, and who needed help with her rent … IMMEDIATELY.) For what it’s worth, like Jesus, I ultimately helped two of them and I plan to call the third. I just wasn’t my best self along the way or in my heart of hearts … I was a little slow on the uptake, a little frustrated in the meantime, I was cynical, suspicious, and skeptical about the “need” of their “need.” I dragged my feet and I thought some thoughts, if you know what I mean. So, while I don’t like experiencing or seeing or admitting to this side of myself – or to this side of Jesus – bear with me for a minute. To not see this side of the story is to miss something significant; something practical; something holy. Because what we see – for my money – is one of the greatest examples of Jesus’ humanity. Even Jesus could put up barriers. Even Jesus had blinders on every now and again. Even Jesus, it seems, had trouble feeling the pain, understanding the need, recognizing the desperation of those who weren’t like him. And even Jesus struggled to acknowledge the difference his kind of GRACE could mean for some people. It’s not the picture I’ve painted of Jesus in our heart of hearts, for the most part. It’s not the gracious response we’ve come to expect from our Lord. It’s not the open arms and the open heart and the open mind I’d rather tell you about. And if this was true for Jesus from time to time – shouldn’t each of us imagine … wonder about … consider deeply ... acknowledge – that it might also be true of us in more ways than we are always able to recognize or willing to admit? And, as hard as it may be to see in Jesus or to acknowledge about ourselves, we should, because I believe what happens next for Jesus, and by God’s grace, is the point in all of this. What happens when Jesus encounters this nameless Canaanite woman – seemingly so different from him and his kind – is that he learns something about her, about himself, and about the power and potential of his ministry. This annoying, persistent, desperate woman – searching for her daughter’s cure – pushed Jesus and his ministry to a new level. What she showed Jesus and what she shows us is that we can open ourselves up in surprising ways. We learn from Jesus that his ministry – and ours – is for those we don’t always understand or “see” and who experience the world differently than we do. The guy who got help from the pantry was humbly grateful for it this week, as he always is. The woman whose rent I paid could barely contain her great joy and sincere gratitude when I called to tell her I was on the way to deliver it – she wept with gratitude and raised a few “hallelujah’s.” Her landlord told me I didn’t even know the kind of blessing I was able to be for her this week. (Which wasn’t me, by the way. I just got to deliver that blessing, thanks to the funds you all contribute to our Pastors’ Discretionary Account for such occasions.) So for me, the Good News in this morning’s Gospel is found in the humanity we’re allowed to see in Jesus – and allowed to acknowledge in ourselves, because of it. The even better Good News in this morning’s Gospel is that Jesus, in spite of that humanity, makes a change. And the best news of all in this morning’s Gospel is that it’s a call to invite that kind of change in ourselves – to slow down and to see people more clearly, more fully, more patiently; for the sake of grace … for the sake of mercy … for the sake of the world our God so loves. Amen

August 9, 2026

Kingdom Potential

Kingdom Potential Pastor Scott Nellis We were fortunate to have Pastor Scott Nellis join us - all the way from the great state of Ohio - for worship this weekend. Scott began his ministry at Cross of Grace and felt called to ordination while here. It was good to hear where he’s been, what he’s been up to, and how he’s serving God’s church in the world as he tries to live up to and into the potential God hopes for us all.

August 2, 2026

YOU Give Them Something to Eat

YOU Give Them Something to Eat Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 14:13-21 Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’ They replied, ‘We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.’ And he said, ‘Bring them here to me.’ Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. This feeding of the 5,000 is one of Jesus’ great miracles – maybe THE great miracle, if there were a popularity contest. (You’ve got water to wine, walking on water, lots of healing here and there, and this feeding of the 5,000, right?) We wonder about how in the world Jesus could take just five loaves of bread and two fish and feed that many people. We marvel at all those leftovers – 12 baskets full – and the idea that if there were about 5,000 men – not including women and children – how many people Jesus really must have fed at the end of that day. I also always marvel at the compassion Jesus mustered for the crowds that afternoon, when all he really wanted was to be alone, to grieve after learning that his cousin and friend, John the Baptist, had just died. It’s amazing to think about all of the people he must have healed or taught or sat with and listened to, in the midst of his grief. And you have to wonder what it was that he said to himself when he looked up to heaven and blessed and broke that food, before making the miracle happen. But the disciples were there too. And while it’s easy to wonder about all of the other stuff – to focus on the size of the crowds and the lack of food and the miracle of it all – I also think about those disciples. It had been a long day and they were probably tired, too. Their appeal to Jesus to let the crowd go get some food, was probably just as much about them getting the heck out of there, too. Never mind the 5,000 … those five loaves and two fish weren’t all that much for 12 tired, hungry disciples, either. And in the face of their questions … in response to their doubts … in spite of their laziness … whatever it may have been … Jesus says, “YOU give them something to eat.” “What do you mean, ‘you’? You want US to feed THEM? Maybe you haven’t noticed, Jesus, but there’s like 5,000 people on this hill and all we brought with us is a couple of stinky fish and a few loaves of sourdough.” “Yes,” Jesus said. “YOU give them something to eat.” See, the miracle’s a good one and it makes a great story, but if we only focus on what Jesus prayed or on trying to figure out how he did what he did, or on the crowds or the fish or the bread and the math – I think we miss the point. Just like the rest of Jesus’ parables – and the ones we’ve been hearing the last couple of weeks – they really aren’t about yeast or pearls or nets; they aren’t about weeds, seeds, soil, or gardening. And today isn’t really about fish or bread or a hillside picnic. For me, the Gospel – the Good News – in the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand is found in Jesus’ short and simple response to the disciples: “YOU give them something to eat.” Sure the disciples are skeptical. Yes Jesus does whatever he does to make the food go as far as it did. But, what he says and what the disciples do is even more profound and powerful: “YOU give them something to eat.” Don’t send them away. Don’t look for a way out. Don’t hope for someone else to do it. Don’t wait for tomorrow, even. “YOU give them something to eat.” “And do it now.” And don’t we sound and act like the disciples too much of the time? We don’t have enough bread – whether that means time, or money; energy, willingness, or ability; faith, love, compassion, or whatever. We’re skeptical. We’re pessimistic. We’re preoccupied, distracted, lazy, uninspired, selfish, insecure, unconvinced, we have so many other, better things to do – maybe all the things those disciples were feeling that day. A lot of the time, if you’re anything like me, you’re just downright full of really good excuses. But just like the disciples in the Gospel, Jesus gives us something greater than even our best excuses. He gives us more than just another miracle, too. He gives us something better even then bread and fish to chew on. Jesus reveals to us just what a high opinion God has – not only of the lost and lonely; the sick and needy people on the hillside that day for whom he shows so much compassion – but Jesus reveals what a high opinion God has of those who believe in and who want to follow him so faithfully. What I hear Jesus saying is, “Don’t pretend you don’t have the time or the skills or the resources to do God’s work in this world.” “Don’t pretend you’re not qualified or capable.” “Don’t put it off for another day or time or moment when it might be more convenient.” “And don’t wait for me to do it in your place.” “YOU give them something to eat.” Which is what I hope you notice and want to be a part of around here – doing the work of the Kingdom, I mean, in and for the sake of the the communities we serve at Cross of Grace. Of course, I think of our Food Pantry and Agape Ministries and Project Rouj in Haiti, that literally support and feed people in gracious, powerful ways. But I think about our CarePortal Crew, too, who does this in ways that continue to surprise me. Stephanie Smith sends an e-mail every couple of weeks with requests for everything from diapers to bed frames to clothing to swing-sets. Ostensibly, she’s saying, “You give them something to eat – or somewhere to sleep, or something to wear, or whatever the need may be,” and before you know it diapers and clothes and all the rest start showing up – from so many of you – to be delivered to children and families nearby. It’s as miraculous as it is simple, if you ask me. And I think about less-obvious things like our Summer Reading Program, too. Inspired by a desire to help English Learners in our neck of the woods, I proposed this idea with more hope than I had plans – a couple of stinky fish and some crumbs of bread, if you will. But we had dozens of Cross of Gracers sign up and show up to make it happen. We didn’t pack a hillside every Wednesday, this summer, but we consistently gave about a dozen children a regular dose of patience, time, opportunity, and learning over the course of the last couple of months that I believe fed and filled them in some meaningful ways that will last and linger as they begin another school year. And, of course, I have in mind the fantastic week of our “Toy Story” themed Camp @ Church that we just pulled out of our behinds. When Lutheran Outdoor Ministries canceled our annual Camp @ Church about a month out, it was temping … it would have been easy – and reasonable – to just cancel the whole thing and try again next year. There wasn’t enough time. There wouldn’t be enough resources, ideas, hands-on-deck. These kids and families could have found other ways and places to fill their days, instead. But we decided to give them something to eat, after all. Day after day, there were crafts and songs and Bible Studies and games and – no loaves and fish – but plenty of good food, too. Every day, 45 kids – and a gaggle of men, women, and teens, too – were filled to overflowing with reminders of God’s love for them, with the Truth of their value in God’s eyes, with the promise of their call to love one another, with the hope of their place in God’s story. This is all a reminder that there is some way each of us can help to feed somebody else – literally or otherwise – through the ministry we share here. Maybe it’s helping with Sunday school this fall, sharing a meal, helping to clean, mowing the lawn, getting onto that CarePortal e-mail list, or showing up for the CrossRoads class to learn more. Let’s not wait for someone else to do it. Let’s not pretend we aren’t capable or qualified or called, even, to respond to the needs around us, in this place or in our world. And let’s not wait for Jesus to do it all by himself, either – that was never God’s plan. No, let’s be amazed by the story. Let’s wonder about the miracle on that hillside. But let’s think about our mission here – as a congregation and as individuals trying to follow the ways of Jesus. Let’s hear the command to give the world something to eat. And let’s realize that we have all we need to make that happen – that because of God’s love for us, we are called and capable of doing the work of love and grace and generosity for the sake of the world. And let’s trust that when we do, there will be more than enough of go around – with leftovers besides. Amen

July 26, 2026

Change and Grace

Change and Grace Pastor Dan Forehand We were fortunate to welcome Pastor Dan Forehand, Assistant to the Bishop for Emerging Ministers and Ministries, in the Indiana-Kentucky Synod, to our pulpit. Dan is also a Partner in Mission at Cross of Grace and it is a blessing to hear from different voices over the course of the summer while Pastor Cogan is away on Family Leave.

July 19, 2026

Weeds, Wheat, God's Work and Ours

Weeds, Wheat, God's Work and Ours Pastor Mark Havel Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43 [Jesus] put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may compared to somebody who sowed good seed in his field, but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away, so that when the plants grew and put forth grain, the weeds appeared as well. So the slaves said to the householder, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where then did these weeds come from?” He replied, “An enemy has done this.” They said to him, “Do you want us to go out and gather them?” He said, “No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat, as well. Let them grow together until the harvest and at the harvest I will tell my reapers, ‘Go and collect the weeds first and bind them into bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’” Then Jesus left the crowds and went into the house. His disciples came and said to him, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He said to them, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evildoer; the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age; and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are thrown into the fire to be burned, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels to collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers and they will be thrown into furnace of fire where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their father. Let anyone with ears listen!” Many of you know I spent the week before last with a dozen of our high school youth, over in Ohio. Most of our time was spent at Bellwether Farm, an Episcopal camp and retreat center, that includes a fully operational farm with pigs and goats and cattle and chickens. (One of the sows gave birth to her first litter of 11 piglets the night before we arrived, which was pretty cool.) They also grow a lot of the food, which they serve to guests and campers by way of their farm-to-table kitchen – and very capable and skilled chef, Kevin. So, while we fed some pigs, collected eggs from the chickens, and milked a goat, our first farm chore of the week was to pull weeds – so many weeds – from around the pepper plants growing in one of the very wet fields behind our sleeping quarters. I couldn’t help but think of this when I got back to reality and this parable of the weeds of the field was on deck for this morning. We experienced, first-hand, what the householder in Jesus’ parable was talking about when he warned against uprooting the good stuff along with the weeds. First of all, most of us needed to be told very clearly about what we were to pull and what we were to leave behind – what the pepper plants looked like and what the weeds were; and that it was actually okay to pull the stray tomato plants that had made their way into the plot of peppers, too. Secondly, it had rained so much the week before we arrived at the farm that – the soft soil was so wet – that it was very easy to “uproot the good plants along with the weeds,” if you weren’t very careful. In fact, if you were doing it right, you almost had to hold the good plants you wanted to leave in the ground with one hand, while pulling the weeds around them out with the other. (I learned after-the-fact that some of us were better at that than others.) My wife will be the first to tell you, I’m not much of a gardener. I’ll water a plant when I’m asked. I will pull weeds in the mulch around the flower beds at my house. But gardening isn’t my thing as much as it is hers. I certainly wouldn’t mess around with weeding someone else’s garden, without an invitation and very clear instructions, like the ones at the farm with the kids, because I’d have a hard time knowing what I should pull up and what I should throw away and what I should leave well enough alone. And that’s something like what Jesus’ parable is all about this morning. His disciples want to know about how they should handle this allegorical, cosmic sort of weeding project he was describing. We know – and the disciples finally figure out – that the weeds in Jesus’ story represent the evil that springs up in the world, and Jesus wants them – and us – to think about those weeds – and all the sin and evil they represent – differently than we’re inclined to most of the time. What I mean is, our first intention, our first temptation, our first desire, too often, is to determine who is or what are to be considered “weeds” and who is or what are to be considered “good seed.” When we talk about heaven and hell, about the end of time, about the coming of God’s kingdom, about “the harvest” as it were – our great desire is to be on the right side of that proverbial fence; to be on the winning team; to choose up sides, so that we aren’t one of the ones who gets “left behind.” And this leads to even greater and scarier temptations. Temptations to point fingers and decide who’s right and who’s wrong. Temptations to make decisions about who’s worthy and who’s not. Temptations to judge – by our standards – who’s good or bad, who’s saved or damned, who’s forgiven or not, who’s welcome or not, who’s loved or loveable or whatever, or not. And we know how ugly this can become. In Jesus’ time, it was the Pharisees who did a lot of the finger-pointing. They worried about who was eating what, or who was working on the Sabbath, or who wasn’t following the law to the letter. These were well-intended, God-fearing, faithful people and based on their fears and worries, they pretended to determine who should be in and who should be out. And, while the Pharisees get a bad rap so much of the time, we don’t have to look very hard to find instances in our world – or in our own circles – or in our own heart of hearts – where people take it upon themselves to make decisions about who should be in and who should be out – decisions about “pulling weeds from wheat,” as Jesus might say. - The Ohio and Indiana highways to and from my road trip with the kids last week are littered with billboards warning drivers to repent, to get ready, to follow Jesus or else – to “turn or burn” like so many weeds, I suppose. - Someone set an Israeli flag on fire in Zionsville a week and a half ago, in what looks like a hate crime, they say. - Our Lieutenant Governor has doubled-down on his disdain for Muslim people and their calls to prayer. - Too many Christian denominations continue to treat women like weeds, preventing them from preaching or leading in meaningful ways. The list goes on… So what I hear in Jesus’ parable is that there are too many of us choosing not to grow alongside too many others of us. And I believe Jesus is challenging us with this parable, to remember that weeding the field of God’s world is not our work to do; it’s not our garden to tend; it’s not our Kingdom to cultivate, all by ourselves. Whether we do it out of fear or out of love… out of genuine concern or out of ignorance… with all the Biblical scholarship and well-reasoned theology or not, Jesus tells us that this sort of thing is not our job, when it comes to the kingdom of heaven. Jesus tells us God is the one – “The Son of Man will send his angels” he says, and then “at the end of the age.” What that means to me – at the very least – is that we’re to leave the weed pulling and the weeping and the gnashing of teeth, for another time – and to more capable hands. Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting we “live and let live” to the point that the weeds of hatred, intolerance, racism, willful ignorance, and injustice are given a pass for the sake of “going along to get along.” I’m not suggesting we bury our heads in the sand … that we live and let live … and leave well enough alone. I’m saying that we may not have weeds to pull, but there are other chores to tend to: there are pigs to feed, and eggs to collect, and goats to milk. There are churches to build, people to feed, neighbors to love, and enemies to forgive. I’m hopeful that the good seeds of the work of justice, love, and grace; the good seeds of mercy, forgiveness, and transformation, will grow boldly and bravely, faithfully and resiliently alongside all of those weeds – in spite of all of those weeds – and until all of the world’s weeds – are transformed to bear fruit worthy of God’s Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.” That is hard, holy work for sure. And some of us – people of privilege, mostly – have some heavy lifting to do, in this regard. If the weed is racism, those who benefit from racist systems have some growing alongside to do… If the weed is sexism, good men in our culture have some growing alongside to do… If the weeds are willful ignorance, intolerance, systemic injustice, or greed, many of us have some learning, and repenting, and growing alongside to do… And this “growing alongside” is hard and holy because it looks like humility and change and forgiveness and persistence. And it is God’s call to the Church, because it is much more Christ-like than all the world’s weeping and gnashing of teeth can muster. It’s harder to “grow alongside” … and to bear fruit among the weeds … and to trust that God’s way of grace will win the day. But I believe it will, in the end, for the sake of the world. I believe we can do this work precisely because God’s grace has – already – won the day, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen

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