Cedar Valley Lutheran Church
Pentecost 19C October 19, 2025 Luke 18:1-8
It isn’t that often that I find a strong common theme running through all of the scripture readings we have on a given Sunday, but today is different. Today, the theme spanning them all has to do with persistence. Jacob, in our first reading, wrestles with an angel in total darkness alone all night long on the banks of the Jabbok River. He persists until the blessings of a new name and a new future are granted him, even though it leaves him limping from a dislocated hip.
In Psalm 121 we are reminded that the reason we can be persistent in faith is because God is persistent. God is our relentless keeper who neither slumbers nor sleeps, who watches over our comings and goings and guards us day and night.
Paul, in his second letter to Timothy strongly urges his younger coworker to proclaim the message of the Gospel persistently whether the time is favorable or unfavorable … the best of times or the worst of times.
And finally, Jesus tells us this story about a widow who refuses to stop pestering this judge for justice. She persists until the judge can’t take it anymore and grants her petition, not because it’s the right thing to do but because he simply wants to get this woman out of his hair and off of his back. If such persistence will work on an unjust and self-serving judge, how much more will a benevolent and loving God respond to our prayers?
The thing is, of course, that even with God, sometimes, it’s not easy to stay determined and focused with our prayers. It is hard not to lose heart. Because there are some things we pray about continually and nothing seems to change … our prayers don’t seem to make a difference. For example, every week in worship in our prayers of intercession we pray for the church asking her to be an instrument of good news bringing wholeness and harmony to the world and nothing seems to change. Every week we pray for the restoration and renewal of creation and nothing seems to change. Every week we pray for our leaders that they might serve the needs of the people they are responsible for with justice and humility and nothing seems to change. Every week we pray for those who are sick and suffering and nothing seems to change. If we take these prayers seriously and they seem to be continually ignored, we have to wonder why we bother even to ask? Why do we persist?
The fact is that such a faith that does not give up even when things feel hopeless takes its toll. It hurts and it baffles, and it can break our hearts. But maybe that’s the point. A faith that persists … prayers that are continually offered over and over again … is hard work. And what I have learned is that when I persist in prayer … I mean really persist, with all my heart over a long period of time, even though I don’t get an answer, something happens to me. I end up getting a stronger sense of who I am and to whom I belong. I am able to see what really matters in this life and why it matters so much. My heart grows stronger, my faith becomes less fragile, and, surprisingly, these good things happen regardless of the outcome of my prayers.
Ultimately, because prayer and faith are, finally, a great mystery, we will never know why some prayers are answered quickly and why many others are not. We can’t understand why our deepest pleas hit a wall sometimes and God’s silence can go on for weeks or months or years, or even a lifetime. And yet from the heart of this bewildering mystery, God is more persistent than we will ever be in reaching out to us with mercy, forgiveness, and love.
Jesus ends this story with a question, “will the Son of Man find faith when he returns?” Well, in one sense, the Son of Man has never left. Through the Holy Spirit the Son of Man continually inspires, instructs, and equips the faith that holds us. Could it be stronger, purer, bolder? Of course. But, none the less, we persist and it changes our lives and the world to behold the powerful grace of God.
Pentecost 7B July 7, 2024 Mark 6:1-13
We see in our gospel reading for today the continuation of a theme that has been running through the life and ministry of Jesus from the beginning. Again and again, Jesus has been forced to deal with rejection: rejection for what he teaches, rejection for what he does, and rejection for who he is.
The Pharisees criticize him for healing on the Sabbath. His disciples chastise him for sleeping in the middle of a stormy sea. Even his mother and his family try to get him to stop working so hard because his zealousness is proving to be an embarrassment to them. And today, Jesus returns to his hometown of Nazareth and it happens again. The people who sat next to him in worship, who celebrated with him at festivals, who watched him play and grow up, can’t accept what he has become.
At first, listening to Jesus teach in the synagogue, these family friends and neighbors are astonished by his eloquence and spiritual insight. They are impressed: “Where did he learn all of this?” they ask each other. “How did he get to be this good?” they wonder. “When did he get so wise all of a sudden?” they question. “After all, he is one of us. Up until recently he was just a local handyman, patching our roofs, framing our doors, and fixing our wobbly tables and chairs.” What happened? Where did Jesus get all of this?
Well, the answer to their questions is that he got all of this from them. He got it from his parents and siblings and relatives. He got it from his teachers at the synagogue. He got it from the values kept by his neighbors and from the stories he learned of his hometown heroes and his local scallywags. Jesus, in essence, is a mirror, showing them who they are and the role they played in shaping his identity and his place in the world. And the same is true for us. So much of what it is that makes us who we are and the things we do is shaped by our environment. And the history we carry and the people who have left a mark on our lives play a big part in our identity.
But their amazement suddenly shifts and they take offense at him. Someone in the crowd – perhaps a jealous neighbor, or maybe a childhood rival, or possibly the village gossip who loves to stir up trouble – questions the fact that Jesus has stepped out of his lane and ignored his place in the community. “He was one of us and now he thinks he’s something more – he has become something we didn’t expect him to be – something that doesn’t fit into the box we put him in.” And their doubts leave him powerless to do what he would love to do for them – what he has done for so many others.
But before we judge them too harshly, let’s imagine that we are also standing among his homies wondering the same thing ourselves. Like them, how often have we missed the holy among us because we could only see what we wanted to see? How often have we missed the new thing God is doing in Jesus because what we could only see is the old and familiar? How often have we not allowed Jesus to surprise us?
I remember something a wise friend told Pam and me when we were newly married. She said that we should surprise each other every once in a while with something unexpected. That surprise, she said, keeps the intrigue and the mystery of love alive in a relationship. I believe that part of the gospel mission for us involves an element of surprise. Because our openness to being surprised, keeps us open to the intrigue and mystery of God’s deep love for us so that it doesn’t get old and boring and meaningless.
My prayer for you, my friends, is that when you listen to Jesus you can hear a new thing God is doing underneath the comfortable traditions and the familiar habits of your faith. I pray you will be surprised by the mystery of the abundant life God has for you in Jesus – a life filled with love and grace … with mercy and forgiveness … with freedom and peace. May you have the eyes to see and the ears to hear the surprising good news God has for you in Jesus Christ, our Lord.