Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Posted on February 22, 2012 by David Nuottila

By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Genesis 3:19 (NRSV)

As we enter this season of Lent we are reminded of our mortality and our need for God’s grace.  The 40 days of Lent are reminiscent of the 40 years the Israelites wandered in the wilderness before reaching the Promised Land, and also of the 40 days Jesus was alone in the wilderness, fasted and then was tested by the evil one.  Looking back on these two instances in scripture we realize that we are dependent on God for our very lives, and even in the most dire circumstances, it is God who walks with us.

We humans live lives through which we squander the richness of God’s blessing, ignore those who suffer, and continually find ways to distance ourselves from that which God has called us to be.  Still, it is God who comes near, calls us to repent and guides us by the Holy Spirit as we wander through the wilderness of our humanity.  By the power of Christ’s death and resurrection and through the waters of baptism, God enables us to love others and boldly share the good news of Christ with a world so desperately in need of God’s love and mercy.

The light of Epiphany first pointed the Magi in the direction of the Christ child born in Bethlehem.  Again the light shone in blinding splendor on the Mount of Transfiguration, revealing Jesus as God’s Son.  Now, as we begin the Lenten walk toward Easter, the light shines on the cross of Christ through which God reconciled the world through the blood of his Son.  May your Lenten journey be one that is guided by the light of Christ, in silent reflection of God’s life saving grace, of discipleship and love for all people. 

[Jesus said} “Whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.  “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words.  Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.  “Pray then in this way: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.  And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.”  Matthew 6:5-13 (NRSV)

Loving Father; You invite us to come to you in prayer.  You invite us to lay before you our lives fears and joys, sorrows, triumphs, today’s and tomorrows.  Enabled by our Lord Jesus Christ, we come humbly and fearfully before you as he instructed; in the quietness and silence of repentant hearts.  We come petitioning asking for help, seeking guidance, hoping for blessing.  Hear us when we pray.

You invite us to worship you; to proclaim our obedience to you, follow your teachings, obey your commandments, and bend to your will.  So as we gather in your name, we come to the altars of our churches and cathedrals in psalm and praise, singing your hymns, declaring our faith, chanting our beliefs, and giving you our thanks.  Hear us when we pray.

Yet you do not seize our audible praises, disdain ceremonies, ignore anthems, or tune out chants.  You are present in silences, felt in tears, heard in sighs and attendant in laments.  You call us into closets; invite us to find retreat, bid us to embrace quiet.  Help us to risk silence, grasp solitude, and entwine peace.  Hear us when we pray.

In silence, solitude and peace you meet us and you hear us; you love us and forgive us.  In the silence of our hearts, you refresh us and renew us.  In silence, solitude and peace you are there, we are heard, prayers are answered.  In silence, solitude and peace; hear us when we pray.  Amen.

Prayer inspired by The Rev. Stephan Brown, A Place for Prayer

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Shrove Tuesday

Posted on February 21, 2012 by David Nuottila

Many of us have come to know today as Shrove Tuesday, the day before the beginning of Lent. Shove Tuesday has long been a favorite church tradition of mine, mostly because the resulting pancake supper. Mardi-Gras in New Orleans has its Fat Tuesday and King Cake, but I’ll take pancakes, bacon and a good old fashion talent show any day.

Other Shrove Tuesday traditions include:

The Pancake Day Race at Olney in Buckinghamshire: Legend has it that on Shrove Tuesday 1445 while cooking pancakes, a woman heard the Shriving bell which summoned the townsfolk to confession. In her haste to get to the church, she ran through the town still wearing her apron and carrying her skillet of pancakes. Today this is reenacted with a race through the town by women wearing dresses and aprons, carrying skillets with a cooking pancake. Each person must flip her pancake three times before reaching the church. The winner is the one who gets to the church fastest, having three flips of the pancake.

Folklore says that it is bad luck to drop a pancake while flipping it. It is said that Napoleon blamed his failure for victory in Russia because of a pancake he dropped during the French Candlemas.

On this eve of Lent it is also tradition that many Christians take a good long look at their lives and examine just what it is they need to confess. After all, the act of acknowledgement and confession of sins is what it means to “shrive.” On the day before Lent begins, tradition states that Christians hear their friends acknowledge their sins, then assure each other of God’s grace and forgiveness. The resulting act of penance is to “give up something for Lent.”  As Christian people, we give up something that we come to realize is standing in the way of our relationship with God.

So often we hear folks say, “I’m giving up this or that for Lent.”  The most common item I hear people giving up is chocolate.  I ask myself, is chocolate really what is standing between God and his people?  Perhaps on some level, but on Easter just watch those who gave it up tear into the chocolate bunnies.  Aren’t they simply back where they started?  In my estimation, it is better to give up something that following the long Lenten journey, one will have removed the stumbling block and not wish to reintroduce it into his/her life.  If it is chocolate, well so be it.  But perhaps there is an unhealthy habit consuming time keeping you from spending time with God.  During Lent, watch a little less TV and read a little more Scripture.  By Easter, you will have removed the stumbling block and strengthened your relationship with Christ.

Lent begins tomorrow.  There is still time to consider what you might “give up” in order to gain stronger faith.  But for now, it is all about the pancakes…not to mention the maple syrup and a tall glass of ice-cold milk. Happy Shrove Tuesday!

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If you choose, you can make me clean…

Posted on February 12, 2012 by David Nuottila

February 12, 2012

6th Sunday after the Epiphany

Union Lutheran Church – Salisbury, NC

Mark 1: 40-45

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

There’s a little cute little story that has been circulating on the Internet.  It’s about a little boy named Tommy.  Tommy had just started walking to school on his own and of course, his mother was a bit nervous about it.  She was a bit of a worrier, so for the first week or so she decided that she would walk with Tommy and in the afternoons meet him at least halfway as he walked home.  One day, Tommy told his mother that he wanted to be like the big boys and walk to school by his self.  It wasn’t far and they knew everyone in the neighborhood.  His mom agreed, but still she was worried that something might happen to her son.  Then Tommy’s mother had an idea.

Their next door neighbor, Shirley Goodness, took her two year old Marcy for a walk each morning, pushing the stroller right passed the school.  She asked Shirley if she would follow her son at a distance, close enough to watch after him, but far enough that he wouldn’t take notice.  Mrs. Goodness agreed to the idea, her daughter Marcy loved going by the school and seeing all the kids.  The next morning as Tommy left for school, Shirley pushed Marcy in the stroller and walked a good bit behind Tommy.  As Tommy walked with one of his friends, Shirley would be watching from behind.  This went on for several weeks.

Finally, one day as they were walking to school, Tommy’s friend noticed this same lady was following them.  He asked Tommy if he knew they were being followed every day?  Tommy replied, “Yeah, and I know who she is.  That’s Shirley Goodness; she has her daughter Marcy in the stroller.   Tommy’s friend asked, “Why is she following us?”  “Well,” Tommy explained, “Ever since I began walking to school on my own, my Mom makes me say the 23rd Psalm with my prayers because she worries about me so much.  The psalm has that part that says, “Shirley Goodness and Marcy shall follow me all the days of my life.”

Be careful what you pray for, you just may get it.

As we listen to this story, we can certainly get the understanding that Tommy’s mother loves him dearly.  She as she is willing to let him begin walking to school like the big kids, but she still goes to great lengths to ensure his safety and security.

More than anything, that is what this story is about.  It’s about a parent’s love for her child and the lengths she will go to care for him.  Within the text of our gospel lesson this morning, we witness the lengths that God is willing to go in order to guide us, lead us and protect us.  We have an example of God’s unconditional love for his people, and especially for those who are on the margins of society.

In ancient times, people who were said to suffer from leprosy were declared unclean.  They were cast out of the synagogue, forbidden to enter the community and required to warn anyone who approached them of their uncleanness and unworthiness.   Lepers were judged by others and found to be physically and socially unacceptable.  No one dared get too close lest they also contracted the disease.  More than anything, fear of the unknown is what motivated people to quarantine lepers, cutting them off from the community.  Fear is a powerful motivator.  It makes decisions for us.  Fear tells us where we should not go.         It points out to us the people whom we should not associate with.

More often than not, fear keeps us from building relationships that would otherwise prove to be pleasing in God’s sight.  Having served an inner city congregation within a community experiencing homelessness, some violence and plenty of other needs, I can assure you there are many social conditions that separate people.  Even here in Salisbury one can watch as those who have standing within the community steer clear of the perceived lepers around us.  Those with means overlook the poor and homeless who occupy the streets.   Sometimes people will even go so far out of their way, crossing the street simply to avoid contact with someone so obviously different.  Such encounters make us nervous.  We feel uneasy, we hope they don’t speak to us, mostly out of fear that they will ask something of us.  We don’t like to think about it, but in such instances, who is really the one who is unclean?            As the community turns away from those who seem undesirable or unlovable, who is really suffering from the effects of the scourge we call sin?

In today’s text, Mark shares with us a healing miracle of Jesus.  But as we gain more understanding about Mark’s gospel, we soon see it is much more than a healing story.  Mark has one central theme that runs throughout his account of Jesus’ life.  With each and every passage, Mark is telling us that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of the Living God, the Messiah and Savior of the world.  Jesus is the one who is called Emmanuel, God with us.  He is the one who came to dwell with God’s people, to live as we live, fully human, yet he is also fully God.  He has the power to forgive sins, cure disease and bring everlasting life in God’s kingdom to all who believe and are baptized.  Today’s story is but one more evidence of the lengths God will go to save his people.

While society turns its back on the unclean, Jesus dares to encounter those who cry out for mercy.   While the leaders of the community segregate the clean from the unclean, Christ makes the unholy to be holy.  Jesus’ love, exhibited in today’s gospel, offers us something different from the usual way we are treated and judged.  God accepts us, not because our skin is perfect or our spirits unblemished, but because he has entered our condition and he knows our needs.  Christ knows our weakness, he understands our pain and he has experienced our suffering.  We are accepted because Jesus knows us as God’s children, redeemed with his own precious body and blood he so willingly gave up on the cross.  The power of his grace is sufficient for our salvation, no matter what sin, regardless of what fear, or any other blemish has come into our life.

Jesus does the unthinkable.  Where society demands that all stand clear and avoid contact with the leper, Jesus reaches out his hand.  Where earthly communities dictate we avoid contact with the undesirable, Christ touches them and holds them in his loving embrace.  Christ Jesus reaches out to touch each of us, to touch us, to make us whole, to restore us to the relationships that we should have in our communities, and the relationship we should have with God.  That is what this text is all about.  That is what the sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion celebrate.  Christ touches us; he makes us clean, he reconciles us with God and restores us to one another.

Mark writes, A leper came to Jesus begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.”  Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!”

Jesus reached out and touched the man suffering from leprosy.  Through baptism, Christ Jesus also reaches out to us and makes us clean.  As he stretched out his hand to the leper and touched him, Jesus returned the leprous man to wholeness.  Just as he stretched out his hands on the cross to make us whole.  Christ Jesus took upon himself the sin of the world and became unclean in the eyes of God’s law that we might be made clean.  He allowed himself to be rejected so that those who are rejected might be accepted.

The point is: we are forgiven, every last one of us.    God’s love is there, waiting for us, at all times in our life. Christ extends his hands, reaching out to us, he chooses, he wills, Christ makes us clean.  We can’t earn his grace, we don’t deserve his love, yet Jesus offers his forgiveness freely.        All we have to do is call out to him.  All we need to do is kneel at his feet and ask him.  “Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.”  And Jesus reaches out and touches us, heals us, cleanses us with God’s grace.

Jesus reaches out to us today.  Through water and the Word, through bread and wine; during our worship through sermon and song Jesus Christ reaches out and touches us, he bids us to come to him.  He calls us to follow in his ways.  Today and all days, God calls all Christians to be like Christ for the neediest among us, the poor and the hungry, the lost and forgotten.  Jesus chooses to touch us and to make us part of his family, his community, his church, and he calls us to touch others with his love.

People of God, as long as we have the love of God in Christ Jesus, we ought not have any fears.  As long as we are the recipients of the good news of God’s grace, we are compelled to go into the world and share this gift with all whom God places within our midst.  Because God gave his only Son to save people from their sins, we are forgiven, healed and made clean in the sight of God.  Let our thankful response be that we reach out and touch other with Christ’s love, sharing this good news with all whom we encounter.

Let us pray:

Holy and life giving God;

You sent your Son into the world that he might save people from their sins.  We know that if you choose, you have the power to forgive us, to renew us, and to restore us to your kingdom of glory.  Touch us with your grace, heal us from our sinfulness, and lead us into the word that we may tell everyone of your goodness, for we pray in the strong name of our precious Savior, Jesus Christ our Lord, and all of God’s people said…Amen!

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“Where have you been David?”

Posted on February 10, 2012 by David Nuottila

It has been a long time since I graced the pages of this blog with any sort of insight.  Several issues factored into my lack of sharing, but none so weighted as the controversies surrounding the fracture of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  The theological debates and arguments surrounding social justice and matters of conscience brought about by the ELCA’s adoption of several policies regarding human sexuality simply wore me out.

Being a confessional Lutheran pastor serving a body in such conflict is difficult enough.  Being that such conflict is brought about through the process of the ELCA leadership abandoning two thousand years of tradition, while discounting biblical authority, I found little energy left for blogging.  I never wanted to fill my blog with debates surrounding such issues, but those were the issues crowding my mind, my life and ministry.  Even as I have tried to write this post, I have deleted remarks, edited comments over and over, and even spent long periods staring at a blank screen wondering how I should address my silence of the past year.  Simply put, as long as I was struggling to reconcile my call to pastoral office with the fact I served a body adrift in a sea of theological uncertainty, I had no energy to devote to this blog.

It wasn’t until our South Carolina Synod assembly last year that I realized the body I served as pastor, the ELCA, had headed off in a direction moving away from biblical authority and confessional witness with no plans of ever looking back.  The traditional and confessional voice is no longer a part of the proclamation of the ELCA in so much as defined and practiced by the church catholic.  As I sat in the convention hall, all I could think about was how out of place I felt and just how unwelcome my voice was when it came time to stand up for the gospel and traditional expression of the Christian faith.  Outside of a few friends and colleagues who served on our steering committee calling for reform, I was alone in the crowd and longing for the Church.  The question running through my mind; “How could I have strayed so far from home and how can I find my way back?”  Following the assembly, I began a journey of serious discernment.

In the months following, I met with my bishop, with other pastors, and also bishops and pastors of other Lutheran bodies.  As has been my practice since 2009, I also attended the Lutheran CORE convocation and theological conference.  In September of 2009 at Fishers, Indiana, I witnessed the effects of overwhelming grief of those lost in a church committing grievous error.  August of 2010 at Columbus, Ohio, the sound of the first note in worship pierced my heart and I heard the voice of the Holy Spirit saying “Welcome home David.”  This past August, in the same church nave, with the same gathering and at the first note of the same organ, I heard the voice of the Holy Spirit ask, “Where have you been David?”  In that moment, I realized I had indeed come home.  Even as my ELCA was adrift on shifting sand, there was still a place for me to stand upon the solid ground of the gospel and worship God almighty.  There was still a place where I could confess Holy Scripture as God’s inspired Word and the source and norm for my faith, life and proclamation…..and actually mean it.  At this convocation, there was no mistaking the fact that God was calling me to help grow his Church and continue making disciples by serving the North American Lutheran Church.

So now here I am, still a confessional Lutheran, still proclaiming the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, still presiding at God’s table.  I have; however, found it necessary to move on.  The congregation I served and dearly loved (and still do by the way) was not in the same place as its pastor.  Simply put, given all the circumstances it was time for me to follow Christ to a new place.  I now serve our Lord in a wonderful congregation in North Carolina, one who took a similar stand on the same issues of faithfulness.  Here in Salisbury, pastor and people have abandon our small boat, left our nets behind and have embarked upon the greatest fishing journey of our lives.  With new excitement for the gospel and rekindled passion for mission, we are growing together in Christ, welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry and loving our neighbor as Christ first loved us.

So now it is time to once again pick up the pen as it were, and share with those who read this blog the stories and experiences of pastor and people as we continue as workers in God’s vineyard.  It will be slow going at first, I need to learn to carve out time to reflect and to write.  I look forward to sharing our story and reading your comments.  But most of all, I give thanks and praise to God our Father, Christ our Savior, and the Holy Spirit who leads us and guides us through this and every day.

Grace to you and peace!

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The Hands of Christ

Posted on March 12, 2011 by David Nuottila

The following is the first sermon in my Lenten series concerning The Body of Christ.

1st Sunday in Lent

John 8:1-11

The Hands of Christ

 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 This morning we begin our Lenten series concerning the Body of Christ, his humanity, his life among God’s people, his suffering and death for our sake.  Today our focus is on the Hands of Christ.

First of all, consider the hand.  Its purpose is to grasp and to hold things.  Its design suits its function very well.  When the hand is first employed it reaches out with an intended purpose.  The hand’s fingers grasp an object and hold it firmly, supporting as much weight as they can bear.  When the weight becomes too great, one hand may reach out in assistance to another.  Given the right set of circumstances, a hand can provide great strength and security.  It can provide a means to do work, or as in many circumstances, a hand can apply a gentle loving touch, a simple caress.  Hands can even speak.  No, they cannot talk, but they can communicate.  Hands can say “I love you.”

What comes to your mind when you think of hands?  Something very emotional, perhaps.  The first thing our own tiny hands grasped as infants was probably a finger of our father or mother.  Our parents’ hands caressed us, changed us, fed us, held us, played with us.  Some might think first of a father’s strong, calloused hands taking your own hand in order to show you how to do something, to teach you, guide you, to protect, or to touch and reassure.  Others might think first of a mother’s gentle hands stroking your forehead as you lay sick; hands that playfully tousled you hair, cooked and served your favorite meal, hands that washed and bandaged cuts and scrapes.  In both cases, we recall hands that loved.

Today, we consider Jesus’ hands.  Jesus’ hands combine that strength, gentleness, love and more.  Jesus’ hands were the strong hands of a carpenter, and yet the gentle loving hands of a healer.  Much has been written about the hands of Christ.  We often read about the wonders that took place by his hands; wonderful and mighty works done by his hands, yet with such a gentle touch.

Early in his ministry when Jesus entered Peter’s house, he saw Peter’s mother-in-law lying sick with a fever; Jesus touched her hand, and the fever left her.  The hands of Jesus were hands filled with love, hands that welcomed and touched everyone.  The hands of Christ touched lepers with love, risking infection from that hideous disease.  They were hands that could be trusted, trusted by the sick, trusted by the lame.  The hands of Jesus could cause the crippled to walk.  The hands of Jesus could cause the deaf to hear, and the hands of Jesus could restore sight to the blind.  They were hands that could even be trusted to bring life back to a child who had died.

These hands of love were hands that could also forgive.  In our Gospel lesson a woman was caught “red-handed” in the very act of adultery.  When she stood accused and brought to Jesus, the beautiful hands of Christ bent to write in the dust.  What do you suppose he wrote?  Did he write the names of all those in the crowd and the sins they themselves had committed?  Did he write the Ten Commandments?  Truth be told, no one knows what it is that Jesus wrote in the dirt with his hands.  But all those eager to kill the woman by stoning her, suddenly and quietly walked away.  No one condemned her.  Christ Jesus, with the hands of love had compassion on the woman and said, “Neither do I condemn you; go and do not sin again.”  The woman’s hands loosened from the bonds of sin so that she might go and serve God with hands of love.

Forgiveness at the hands of Christ.

And what of our hands?  In your hands this morning you have a nail.  Earlier I asked you to consider the hand.  Now consider the nail.  The nail’s purpose is to hold things as well, hold them together.  As with the hand, its design suits its function very well.  When a nail is first employed its tip violently and efficiently pierces the surface of one material meant to be fastened to another.  Driven deeper and deeper, the nail finally penetrates the one, and then begins sinking deep into the other.  Given enough length, the nail will finally penetrate the second object where its shaft may be bent over so that the two in essence become one providing great strength and security.  Because of the nail, two objects are joined, affixed.  Only until one is ripped from the other, or the nail straightened and driven back can the two be separated.  Properly applied, nails employed by human hands do good work.

The work we do with our hands in the name of Christ is the work of love.  Following the example of Christ Jesus, we strive to love our neighbor, serve those who are in need, feed those who are hungry, love those who long to be loved.  Yet all too often, we humans fall short and our hands become instruments of something quite different.  Because of sin, our hands become instruments for consumption rather than service, greed rather than generosity, and hate rather than love.  Because of sin, our age old rebellion, our human hands become something quite different; they become as like nails.

Take a moment and consider the nail, held in your hand.

Finally, consider the cross, where nails and hands meet.  Neither functions toward its desired purpose.  The nail rips through the flesh of the hand, penetrating through to the rough wooden beam.  The hand is wounded, broken, bleeding.  It is unable to grasp, unable to hold.  The nail is misused in a most despicable way, tearing down rather than building up.  It restrains the hand, destroys its ability to do work, to apply a gentle loving touch.  The nail denies the hand its desire to touch; keeps it from applying a gentle caress.  Yet, even as the nail is misused, given the right set of circumstances, the hand still speaks.  Though wounded and bleeding, pierced and dying, the hands of Christ reach out and say “I love you.”

To ensure the same forgiveness granted the woman caught in adultery would be available to us also, the hands of Christ, his strong, skilled, healing, loving, forgiving hands were nailed to a cross.  In order that we may be forgiven and gain the assurance of everlasting life in God’s kingdom, the hands of Christ bore the weight of the world’s sin.  Christ died that we might live.  Christ died in order to save us.  Christ died at the hands of humans; yet he was raised by the hand of God.  Consider the hands of Christ; the hands that forgive, the hands that conquer death, the hands that give life.

As we stretch out our empty needy hands this morning, God fills them by his loving hand.  Why?

So that we might live.  So that we might live; so that we might love, so that we might be as the hands of Christ for others.

No doubt you’ve seen pictures from Japan following the earthquake and tsunami.  It will take more than the hands of humans to repair the damage.  It will take the hands of God.

Consider the hand.  Its purpose is to grasp and to hold things.  Its design suits its function very well.  When the hand is first employed it reaches out with an intended purpose.  As we extend our hands toward others, let us do so as Christ did for us; with complete and unselfish love.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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