Monday, July 21, 2025

Sermon for Pentecost 6: "Holy Hospitality"

 + 6th Sunday after Pentecost – July 20th, 2025 +

Series C: Genesis 18:1-14; Colossians 1:21-29; Luke 10:38-42

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 



 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Don’t just do something, sit there! 

 

No, that’s wasn’t a slip of the tongue. You heard that right. Don’t just do something, sit there.

 

You and I are used to hearing, perhaps even saying, the opposite… “There’s no time for lollygagging, dillydalling, or thumb-twiddling. Get off your duff. Don’t just sit there, do something.”

 

But then along comes Jesus. Martha invites him into her home. Mary and Martha are both good friends. Beloved disciples. And sinners and saints like you and I. Jesus enters as a welcomed guest, but honestly, he’s really the Host, the Divine Visitor. Jesus comes as the Holy Hospitality Worker serving up a gracious surprise for Mary and Martha and you. Jesus throws all our plans out the window. “Don’t just do something. Sit there. Rest. Receive. Rejoice.”

 

For when Jesus comes, he comes as a gracious host full of good news for Mary and Martha and for you. Jesus is the Son of Man who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. When Jesus shows up, he brings with him a holy hospitality.

 

Just ask Abraham and Sarah. When the Lord, the Malak YHWH, the Angel of the Lord, Jesus before his incarnation, pays them a visit under the oaks of Mamre, he comes bearing gifts. Yes, Abraham prepares the BBQ. Sarah prepares some cakes of grain. But YHWH delivers the main course. A promise. “Don’t just do something, sit there and watch me do what sounds impossible and too good to be true, but it is…By this time next year, you’ll be changing diapers on a little bundle of joy.” And a year later, YHWH delivered on his promise and Sara delivered a son. Isaac – laughter – was born.

 

Is anything too hard for YHWH? Not at all. Don’t just do something. Sit there. “If you thought that was wild, just wait and see what I’m going to do when I send my own promised Son from the family tree of Abraham’s son…to a Virgin named Mary.”

 

When YHWHW takes on human flesh, he does for you what he did for Abraham and Sarah. He comes with holy hospitality to serve and save and sanctify you. This is what Jesus, the Divine Visitor does when he steps into the home of Martha and Mary. “I come with holy hospitality, to satisfy your anxiousness by my presence and word. To fill your emptiness with the bread of life. To bear you burdens. To serve you by my sacrifice. To clear away all your distractions and give you with my divine, steadfast love. I give you the good portion of my grace and goodness that will never fade away.”

 

Luke draws our attention first to Mary. Mary, we are told is sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening to his teaching. This is the posture of the disciple in the Scriptures. At the feet. Hearing the Word. Continually. Ongoing. 

 

Then, Luke shifts the camera around to Martha. She’s a gracious hostess. Welcomes the Rabbi. Prepares the food. Pours the wine. Shows hospitality. She serves (literally diakonia). But there’s a problem. Well, two problems really.

 

Martha brings the first problem to Jesus’ attention. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” 

 

Seems like a reasonable request, especially to any of you who have worked hard or grown weary serving others, and we’ve all been there. “Come on, Mary, don’t just sit there, do something!”

 

And this is where Luke reveals the second problem. Martha is distracted (overburdened, feeling dragged or pulled around) by much serving. Pay close attention to the words used here. The problem isn’t Martha’s service (her diakonia). That’s a good thing. A holy thing. Jesus doesn’t rebuke her loving service and hospitality, but he does remove her distractions. So that he can give her what is most needful…his word. His life. His teaching. His good news. His gracious promises. 

 

Martha isn’t alone in her distractions. You and I are right there with her. Daily life overwhelms you in a Jenga tower of distraction upon distraction. Always looking to distract from the pain or the joy or the sorrow or the silence. Your sinful flesh is like Labrador, always chasing the next squirrel. Breaking news alerts. Scrolling phones. Checking emails. Notifications. Texts. Wifi. Radio. It’s not that these are all bad things…much of it can be good, but never at the expense of God’s Word. 

 

Distraction has been Satan’s greatest tool against the Word of God since the beginning. Is the fruit good for eating? Is it desirable for making one wise? The ancient dragon is an expert distractor. Even distracting us with good things in order to keep us away from the Word of Life. But there’s one man he cannot distract or deter or defeat. The Son of Man. 

 

Remember, Jesus loves Mary and Martha. Jesus comes to their home as Rabbi, Teacher, but also their friend, the friend of sinners, and as the Gracious Host full of divine hospitality for them and for you. 

 

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.  Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

 

In other words, Jesus tells Martha… “There is time for serving. But now is the time for hearing. To serve the Lord you must first be served by me. So, don’t just do something, sit there.  Rest. Receive. Rejoice in my holy hospitality for you.”

 

Jesus is gentle in his reply to Martha. He doesn’t rebuke her service, but he does seek to calm her anxious heart with his holy word, same is true for you. Jesus comes to make your burdens his own. To clear all your distractions and deliver you his divine goodness and grace. Jesus leads you, as he did Mary and Martha, to the good portion of his Word, his life, his steadfast love.

 

You and I are a lot like Mary and Martha, sinners and saints, visited by the holy hospitality of Jesus. Jesus cares for Mary and Martha. Visits them in their home with his presence. Fills their ears with his teaching and proclamation of good news. Brings Mary and Martha true rest in his rescue. 

 

So it is for you. “Here in my house, where I am host and guest, I care for you. I visit you in my word and supper. I fill your ears with my teaching and proclaim to you, I forgive you all your sins. I bring you rest in my redemption. I bring you life from the dead. I give you the good portion, my promises as you hear, listen, sing, pray, meditate, kneel. Here I am serving you. forgiving you. blessing you. I am your gracious host and today I come bearing gifts.”

 

And today, Jesus, your Holy Hospitality Worker has prepared everything for you. The table is set.

So, don’t just do something. Sit here. Rest. Receive. Rejoice.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Monday, July 14, 2025

Sermon for Pentecost 5: "Jesus the Good Samaritan"

 + 5th Sunday after Pentecost – July 13th, 2025 +

Series C: Leviticus 19-9-18; Colossians 1:1-14; Luke 10:25-37

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 


 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Whenever you watch a movie or read a story a little game begins in your imagination. You imagine yourself in the story. You see Sherlock Holmes and imagine yourself as a clever, witty detective hunting down the villain. You see Superman and picture yourself leaping tall buildings with a single bound to rescue the child from certain danger. You and I picture ourselves, indeed we long to be, the hero or heroine of the story, the good guy, the Oscar winner for best actor/actress.

 

Jesus’ parables are no different. When you hear Jesus tell the story of the Good Samaritan – one of his most famous and familiar stories - who do you imagine yourself to be? Well, I sure don’t want to be that priest and Levite, unwilling to get their hands dirty and bloody and ritually unclean. And no one wants to be a bloodied and bruised, half-dead mess of a guy in the ditch. So, your answer is probably the same as mine; it’s gotta be…the Samaritan. 

 

And it’s tempting…easy even…to cast ourselves in the lead role of this parable. To put ourselves in the spotlight at center stage of this story and come out with a great moral lesson on helping others and being a neighbor to others around you – whoever that may be. And there is a place for you and I in this story…but it has to be as understudies, not the lead role. Jesus does instruct you and I to “Go and do likewise”, to be the compassionate neighbor you are in Him. But this comes only after Jesus is the neighbor to you. Only after Jesus has completely destroyed all our attempts to justify ourselves, and bound up our wounds, charging everything to his account, and places us in his holy inn.

 

You see, Jesus, the director, writer and producer of this divine drama, has the lead role of this parable set aside for someone else…and I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the lawyer; it’s not me; and it’s not you. It’s Jesus. He’s the Good Samaritan for you. But we’re getting ahead of the story.

 

Remember that this whole story begins with a conversation – really, an interrogation, a testing, a cross-examination. A lawyer, a teacher of the Law of Moses comes up to Jesus and asks him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus answers his law question with a law-answer. What is written in the Law? The Torah. The books of Moses. The lawyer answers correctly. Love God. Love your neighbor. Do this and live. 


But the lawyer pressed his case. Luke gives us an insight into the lawyer and this story. Desiring to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

This is how the old Adam – your sinful flesh and mine – thinks. That God’s Law is doable. Achievable. Manageable. That it’s like a checklist you can mark off as you go. Well, I haven’t murdered anyone today. I haven’t looted any Nike stores this week. And who is my neighbor anyway? I’ll help that person out and mark them off my list too. You and I treat God’s Law like the tax code, always looking for loopholes and exemptions. That’s good for taxes, not so good for theology.

 

So, Jesus answers the lawyer not with a dictionary or a DIY list, but with a story. 

 

There was a man who fell among thieves on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. Jesus knew this road well; it was known as the Way of Blood. A popular pilgrim highway ripe for robbers and thugs. The man is stripped, beaten, and left for dead on the roadside.

Three travelers come across the man. The first, a priest, passed by on the opposite side of the road. No sense becoming ritually unclean by touching a dead body. Hard to do priestly things if you’re ritually unclean. Wouldn’t be safe or prudent or pure. 

 

Along comes a Levite, a priestly assistant. Second verse same as the first. He passes by the man. Finally a third man comes along. Jesus’ hearers would’ve expected someone like a Jewish layman to be next. Priest. Levite. Layman. But no. There’s a shocking, scandalous surprise. 

 

The third man stops. He’s filled with a gut-wrenching compassion. He jumps down into the ditch. Cleans the man’s wounds. bandages. First aid. Oil and wine. Sets him on his own donkey. Travels to a local village, where he’s probably hated and considered an outsider by everyone in town, pays for the man’s room and board, and tells the innkeeper to charge any additional costs to his account. 

 

And who was this kind stranger? We call him the good Samaritan. But this word doesn’t hit our ears the same way it would’ve hit Jesus’ hearers in the 1st century. We hear Samaritan and think Good Sam Hospital or being a Good Samaritan. But in Jesus’ day, Samaritans were good for nothing. Half-breed heretics. The lowest of the low. Samaria was a place of outlaws and fugitives and idol worshippers.

 

We come back to the question…who are you and I in this story? Are you the nearly-dead man in the ditch? Or are you the lawyer and the priest and the Levite? The answer is yes. You and I are both the lawyer and priest and Levite – always looking to justify ourselves, and you and I are the nameless, lifeless half-dead, bloody, broken man in the ditch. There’s a little lawyer in each of us…who loves to stand in the courtroom with all the cameras on and argue your own case and present all the evidence. “At least I’m not as bad as others.” Deep down I’m really a good person. Truth is, there’s no end to the ways you and I attempt to justify ourselves. 

 

But you and I are also the man left for dead along the roadside. Broken by sin. Dead in trespasses. Wounded. Weary. Bruised and beaten by the world. Bloodied and left for dead by griefs. Sorrows. Aches and pains. Chronic diseases and cancers. Broken families. Broken bodies. Broken lives. 

 

Your story needs a hero. You need the Good Samaritan. One who has born your griefs and carried your sorrows. One whose wounds heal you and words give you life. Where you and I keep a check-list of our greatest and worst accomplishments, Jesus holds no records of wrongs and cancels your debt. Where you and I fail to love God and our neighbor, Jesus loves you with a perfect, sacrificial love.

 

Jesus is the Good Samaritan who travels the Way of Blood all the way to the cross for you. He pours out his gut-wrenching compassion to justify sinners. He is despised and rejected for you. He jumps down into the ditch and gets his hands and feet and whole body down in the mud and the blood and the uncleanness your brokenness and sin for you. He binds your wounds and heals you with his own. He charges every one of your expenses and debts to his own account. 

 

Jesus, the Good Samaritan, is also the one who also brings you and keeps you safe in the sacred inn of his holy Church. Here, He gives you food and drink and fellowship. A safe haven. A place of rest and restoration in the blood of Jesus. A place where you are given to bear one another’s burdens. A place where weary, broken sinners are also blessed to be innkeepers and stewards of the Good Samaritan’s gracious gifts. 

 

And as you travel the road of this life, Jesus is your Good Samaritan, and in him, you are good Samaritans too. Your life and faith and story are safe in the wounded, crucified and risen hands of Jesus your Good Samaritan.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Monday, July 7, 2025

Sermon for Pentecost 4: "Thy Kingdom Come"

 + 4th Sunday after Pentecost – July 6th, 2025 +

Series C: Isaiah 66:10-14; Galatians 6:1-18; Luke 10:1-20

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

The sending of the 72 in Luke 10 | Psephizo

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Whenever you enter a town and they receive you, eat what is set before you. Heal the sick in it and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 

 

Jesus says these words to his disciples as he sends them out – literally chucks them out like fish at Pike’s Place market. Jesus’ words are the church in an acorn shell. Everything he gives his disciples to do he gives his you, his bride, the church to do as well. 

 

So, there’s food and fellowship. A table and teaching where Jesus dwells with and for sinners. Healing and peace. Preaching and promise. All in the name of Jesus. All by the grace of Jesus. This is how Jesus rules…not with a show of force, but by sins forgiven. Not in the ways we would think: God reveals his glory and power and kingdom in hidden, ordinary, seemingly weak and lowly ways and words…words and actions which are at the same time creative, sufficient, and for you.

 

Jesus is the King after all, and he is good. And so is his reign. His rule is peace for rebels. Healing for the broken. Rest for the weary. Calm for the anxious. Hope for the despairing. Honor for the shamed. Pardon for the guilty. Life for the dead. Outrageous forgiveness for undeserving sinners. A King who is crucified and risen all so that he can bring you into his kingdom.

 

But what exactly is the kingdom of God? Jesus says it quite a bit. Preaches about it all over Judea and Galilee. Sends his disciples out to preach the good news that “the kingdom of God has come near to you.” We hear it and sing it; we even pray it – “Thy Kingdom Come”. But what does that mean? What does this kingdom and rule and reign of Jesus look like? Where is it found?

 

In the Old Testament the kingdom of God is seen in God’s creating life out nothing: a whole cosmos, creatures and all creation simply by saying the words: “Let there be…” The kingdom of God is seen in God sharing his rule and reign with Adam and Eve as they work the garden.

 

The kingdom of God is seen in the ark, that flagship of YHWH’s salvation navy, that delivers Noah and his family out of the old and into a new creation. Or in the dove that YHWH sends bearing good news of an olive branch in its beak.

 

The kingdom of God is seen when YHWH makes a promise to Abraham and Sarah that’s so wild she laughs out of joy and later calls this promised son, Isaac (laughter). 

 

The kingdom of God is seen in a tiny, woven basket, floating down the Nile River out of the wreckage of Pharaoh’s slaughter of the young Hebrew boys. And then through the waters of the Red Sea. And later the Jordan.

 

The same river…not coincidentally, many years later…where the Son of God in the flesh steps into and the Father speaks that this is his beloved Son with whom he is well pleased. And through whom he is well pleased with you too. Where the Spirit descends in the form of a dove to bring rest and peace and shine his holy spotlight on the King and the coming Kingdom there in the water.


And so the kingdom of God is seen in the New Testament too. In Peter making a fool of himself yet later restored by Jesus.

 

You see the kingdom of God in a sycamore tree where Jesus tells Zaccheus, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.”… “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham.10 For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

 

You see the kingdom of God when Jesus heals the sick, makes the lame walk, raises the dead, feeds the hungry, and washes his disciples unclean, filthy feet. When the Lord of all becomes the servant of all. When the Rabbi reveals that he is also the Redeemer. That the Holy One of Israel comes in great humility to save you. That the King prefers to wear a crown of thorns to bring you into his kingdom. 

 

There on the cross, that’s where you see your King and his kingdom most clearly. That is where everything he says, everything he does, every sermon, teaching, and conversation points to. To miss this leads only to sadness and rejection. Not because he rejects you. No he doesn’t work that way. But because you will have chosen your kingdom over his. That’s the thing about this King and Kingdom. You don’t come to him; he comes to you. You don’t find the kingdom, the kingdom finds you. You don’t deliver yourself; your King delivers you. 

 

This is why Jesus teaches his disciples that, Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house!’” Peace… because you and I are a mess of broken, weary, wild, wicked sinners. Our sinful flesh is kaleidoscope of transgressions spinning in rebellion against the King. Our lives are spent living in a world of hurt, sorrow, suffering, pain, and despair. One gut-punch after another. You and I are bruised reeds. Fainting wicks. Sinners in need of forgiveness. The sick in need of the Physician. Traitors in need of a true and good and gracious King.

 

So what does King Jesus do? He quells our rebellion with his own blood. He makes peace for you by his pain and agony. He brings you healing by being humbled unto death on the cross. King Jesus rules and reigns and brings his kingdom to you in humble, hidden, yet holy ways and words.

 

What does the Kingdom of God look like? Where is your King found? Right where he promises to be for you. The kingdom of God comes to you in a flood of forgiveness. In the font where the Spirit-dove brings you something better than an olive branch. He brings you Jesus, the righteous branch who died on the tree to save you. And he plops you in the ark and ferries you over the raging waters.

 

The kingdom of God comes to you in words spoken by a sinner to fellows sinners, a word that opens heaven for you, sets you free from sin, and makes you whole and holy in Jesus. The same Jesus who said “Let there be light” in creation, now says “Let there be forgiveness” and makes you a new creation.

 

The kingdom of God comes to you, as it did for Jesus’ disciples: at the table and in the teaching. Supper and Scriptures. Body and blood and promise. Given and shed for you. the kingdom of God comes to you in humble, yet holy words that give you what Jesus promises: peace, healing, life.


But there’s more. Jesus not only gives you his kingdom, he sends you out to proclaim his good and gracious rule. 

 

So you see the kingdom of God when you pray with your neighbor who just got off the phone with their oncologist and the news isn’t good. You see it when you offer a word of hope to someone who’s despairing: Jesus died for that too. He is for you. You see it as you bear one another’s burdens, Paul says. You see it as you tell your friends and neighbors, come and see. Come to our Lord’s house. For The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ Jesus, the King, is here with all his peace, pardon, and promise for you.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.